F 

855- 

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BANCROFT 

LIBRARY 

•> 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


7 


—     o— <    -W  — -S 


-  2- 


SOLID  SILVER 


A   PLAY 


IN   FIVE  ACTS  : 


PERFORMED  AT  THE  CALIFORNIA  THKATRK 
SAN  FRANCISCO.  CAL. 


B  Y 


WILLIAM  H.  L. 


SAN     FRANCISCO 

1871. 


SOLID  SILVER 


A  PLAY 


IN   FIVE  ACTS. 


AS  PERFORMED  AT  THE  CALIFORNIA  THEATRE 
SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. 


BY 


WILLIAM  H.  L.  BARNES. 


SAN     FRANCISCO: 

1871. 


ENTERED  ACCORDING  TO  ACT  OF  CONGRESS,   IN  THE  COPYRIGHT  OFFICE  OF  THE   LIBRARY  OF  CONGRESS, 
WASHINGTON,   D.   C. ,   NOVEMBER  20,   1871. 


6  o  «ar 

BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 


of 


AS     PERFORMK1)      AT     THK 


CALIFORNIA    THEATRE, 

San  Francisco,  Cal. 


Paul  Weir Mr.  JOHN  McCuLLOUGH 

The  Earl  De  la  Lande Mr.   FRED  FRANKS 

Captain  Gerard  Morris Mr.   W.   A.   MESTAYER 

Mr.  Sponge,  Senior Mr.  HENRY  EDWARDS 

Mr.  Sponge,  Junior Mr.  J.   C.  WILLIAMSON 

Mr.  Oldcastle Mr.  SEDLEY  SMITH 

Mr.  Barclay Mr.  G  EORGE  FRENCH 

Leon Mr.  EDMUND  LEATHES 

Bertha  Huntingdon Miss  MAY  HOWARD 

Kate  Delaire Miss  MINNIE  WALTON 

Lady  Emily  Peele Miss  LMOGENE  VANDYKE 

Countess  De  la  Lande Miss  Lou.  JOHNSTON 

Mrs.  Weir Mrs.  JUDAH 

Mrs.  Busby Mrs.  C.   R.   SAUNDERS 

Clementine Miss  Lou.  HARMES 


Stage  business,  cast  of  characters,  relative  positions, 
etc.,  arranged  and  correctly  marked  by  Mr.  ROBERT 
M.  EBERLE,  Assistant  Stage  Manager,  California 
Theatre. 


EDWARD  BOSQUI  &  CO.,  PRINTERS,  BOOKBINDERS  AND  STATIONERS, 

LEIDESDORFF  STREET,   FROM  CLAV  TO  COMMERCIAL,   SAN   FRANCISCO. 


SOLID  SILVER. 


ACT    FIBST. 


SCENE  I. — Room  at  Huntingdon  Towers;  half  library,  half 
office.  Portrait  of  young  lady  over  door  at  L.  Chairs, 
hat-rack,  etc.  Large  library  lamp  burning  on  table 

at  back. 

PAUL. 

(Rising  from  seat  at  secretary,  R.  H.)  I  am  tired  as  an 
old  man :  I  am  weary  of  life  and  my  father's  honorable 
name.  I  hate  this  place,  and  yet  can  not  tear  myself  away 
from  it.  I  loathe  my  daily  duties,  yet  can  not  abandon 
them.  Those  who  bring  their  flatteries  here,  as  slaves 
bring  tribute  to  a  queen,  are  of  no  better  lineage  than  I. 
Yet,  poverty  leaves  me  only  the  solace  of  honest  labor. 
[Looking  up  at  the  portrait  over  the  mantel,  L.  H.  2o  E.] 
Ah!  you  never  change  that  sweet  smile  as  you  seem  to 
listen,  while  I  dare  to  say — "I  love  you;"  but  when  your 
living  presence  comes  and  has  gone,  I  deride  myself  for 
speaking,  even  to  you,  save  as  a  servant  speaks.  Ko ! 
my  heart  shall  listen  to  my  reason,  If  I  can  not  conquer 
myself,  I  wrill  at  least  hug  my  secret  as  closely  as  a 
murderer  holds  his,  and  bewail  my  dead  hope  in  solitude. 
I  will  bury  it  with  labor.  [Sits  at  desk  R.  H.  Enter,  unob- 
served by  PAUL,  Captain  MORRIS,  JOHN  SPONGE,  Sr.,  and 
JOHN  SPONGE,  Jr.  R.  c.]  Yes,  by  heaven,  life  is  labor.  I 
sentence  myself  to  work  as  perpetual  in  degree,  if  not  in 
kind,  as  that  of  the  ploughman  or  railway-navvy.  I  hail 
them  both  as  comrades  !  From  this  moment  I  abandon 


6  SOLID  SILVER. 

that  unhealthy  pride  which  has  so  often  urged  me  to  seclu- 
sion, or  to  criminal  effort  to  make  a  gentleman  of  myself, 
such  as  some  of  these  who  haunt  her  footsteps. 

CAPTAIN    MORRIS,  (R.  C.) 

(Interrupting,  to  SPONGE,  Sr.)  Did  he  speak  to  me  ? 
Quite  eloquent,  I  declare  !  Sponge,  when  you  stand  for 
Parliament,  let  this  orator  present  your  cause  to  his  friends 
of  the  working-classes. 

SPONGE,    SR.    (C.) 

Let  the  man  alone.  I  presume  he  is  Miss  Hunting- 
don's secretary,  or  steward  ;  isn't  he,  John  ? 

SPONGE,  JR.  (L.  H.) 
Dunno,  Governor.     Shall  I  speak  to  him,  Governor  ? 

MORRIS. 

As  somebody  says,  be  mine  the  pleasing  task.  [Going 
up  to  PAUL,  who  has  observed  them  and  then  resumed  his 
work,  and  tapping  him  on  the  shoulder  with  his  cane.~\  My 
man,  you  don't  know  me  ? 

PAUL. 


MORRIS. 

Where  's  Miss  Huntingdon  ? 

PAUL. 
(Rising.}     I  don't  know. 

MORRIS. 

I  think  you  Ve  heard  of  me  !  my  name  is  Captain  Mor- 
ris, of  the  Sixteenth  Lancers,  cousin  to  Miss  Huntingdon, 
and  here  by  her  invitation,  wTith  my  friends,  to  pass  a  few 
days. 

PAUL. 

I  have  heard  many  things  of  you,  if  you  are  the  person 
to  whom  these  estates  revert  in  the  event  of  Miss  Hun- 
tingdon's death,  with  no  children  surviving  her. 


gCBNBI.  SOLID    SILYKK.  7 

MORRIS. 

That  's  me.     So  far  as  I  know,  the  likeness  is  correct, 
Sponge,  eh  ? 


if/c,  Jr.  retires  up,  examining  books,  pictures,  etc.'] 
He  knows  you  well  enough  for  the  present.  Don't  push 
the  man's  knowledge  too  far  ;  it  won't  pay. 

MORRIS. 

Since  you  do  recall  me,  my  man,  allow  me  to  ask  if 
you  are  too  far  removed  from  the  position  of  butler  to  tell 
me  what  apartments  have  been  reserved  for  my  friends 
and  myself  ? 

PAUL. 

I  will  ring  for  a  servant,  who  can  inform  you,  sir. 

[Rings  bell. 
Enter  LEON,  (R.  1  E.) 

Leon,  these  gentlemen  say  they  are  expected  guests. 
Ask  Mrs.  Busby  where  their  apartments  are  and  show 
them  the  way. 

LEON. 

Madame  Busby  has  already  informed  me  where  they 
repose  themselves.  Messieurs,  I  am  at  your  service. 

[  Crosses  up  to  L.  3  E. 

SPONGE,  JR.  (L.  H.,  back  to  audience.) 

Go  easy  a  minute,  Frenchy  ;  I'm  looking  round  a  tri- 
fle. I  say,  Mr.  - 

PAUL.  (R.  H.) 
Weir. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Weir,  then,  who  's  that  handsome  gal  *  hanging  over 
the  mantel  there  ?  [  All  turn  towards  L.  H.  and  look  at  pic- 
ture.'} 

PAUL. 

That  is  a  portrait  of  Miss  Huntingdon,  the  owner  of 
this  house. 


8  SOLID   SILVER,  SCENE  i. 

SPONGE,    SR.    (C.) 

What  ?  let  me  see  it !  God,  how  healthy  she  looks  ! 
[  To  MORRIS.]  Say,  I  thought  you  told  me 

MORRIS.    (R.  C.) 

Well,  well,  never  mind  now,  Sponge  ;  let  us  go  to  our 
apartments.  [  To  LEON.]  Confound  you,  sir,  why  don't 
you  go  ?  What  are  you  waiting  for,  you  idiot  ? 

LEON. 

I  don't  know,  Monsieur.  Messieurs,  the  father  and  son 
will  repose  in  those  apartments,  [pointing  to  door  L.  3  E.  of 
scene,]  and  will  use  this  one  at  their  convenience.  I  will 
show  this  gentleman  his  apartment  in  another  part  of  the 
house.  [Cross  to  R.  H.  3  E.  LEON  and  MORRIS  exit  R.  3  E.; 
SPONGE,  Jr.  and  SPONGE,  Sr.  L.  3  E.  In  a  moment,  SPONGE, 
Sr.  returns.  PAUL  seats  himself  at  desk.~\ 

SPONGE,  SR. 

Excuse  me,  young  gentleman,  no  offense  I  hope,  in 
asking  a  question  or  two  ?  no  questions — no  lies,  is  the 
old  saying  ;  110  questions — no  knowledge,  is  my  motto. 
You  see,  I'm  in  a  sort  of  financial  bother  which  I  don't 
like,  and  I  don't  mind  paying,  if  that  will  help  me  out  of 
it.  Is  that  really  Miss  Huntingdon's  picture  up  there  ? 

PAUL. 
I  told  you  before  that  it  was,  did  I  not  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

So  you  did.  But  a  man  must  be  told  a  thing  twice, 
and  oftener,  which  he  does  n't  want  to  believe,  before  he 
takes  it  all  in,  don't  you  see  ?  Painted  some  time  ago, 
you  said  ? 

PAUL. 

It  was  taken  in  the  spring.  You  won't  see  many  faces 
as  radiant  with  the  grace  and  beauty  of  youth  and  perfect 
health  as  hers.  Angels  in  heaven  may  look  more  pure, 
but  there  are  none  more  angelic  than  she.  Why 

SPONGE,  SR. 
Yes,  yes ;   I  understand  all  that,  and  am  glad  she's 


SCENE  i.  SOLID   SILVER.  9 

good,  for  the  comfort  of  her  friends  when  she's  gone. 
I'm  going  to  get  in  some  of  it  myself  one  of  these  days. 
No  time1  just  now.  How  lon^  can  she  live,  now,  do  you 
think? 

PAUL. 

I  hope  many,  many  years  will  pass  before  nature  will 
claim  its  debt  of  her  sweet  life. 

SPOXGE,  SK. 

Yon  hope  so  ?  Well,  christianly  speaking,  so  do  I ; 
but  in  a  business  point  of  view,  I  can't  admit  the  propo- 
sition. I  supposed  now  she  was  feeble,  decrepit,  con- 
sumptive, and  couldn't  hang  on,  say,  well — not  much  be- 
yond the  close  of  the  present  fiscal  year. 

PAUL — (starting  up.} 

Who  told  you  such  a  falsehood  as  that  ?  Feeble  ?  De- 
crepit ?  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her  this  morning, 
coming  up  the  avenue  on  her  huge  thoroughbred  horse 
"Titan."  He  was  swinging  along,  with  eyes  of  fire  and 
wide-opened  nostrils  ;  his  great  brown  limbs  striking  now 
on  the  turf  and  now  on  the  gravel,  his  slender  mane  stand- 
ing  straight  out,  like  a  flag  in  a  hurricane — -just  as  he  came 
in  winner  at  the  Ascot  last  year ;  while  she  rode  him  so 
gloriously  and  fearlessly,  with  such  a  color  in  her  cheeks 
and  such  a  light  in  her  eyes,  that  no  living  man  could 
associate  the  idea  of  decay  and  death  with  her,  and  none 
but  a  double-dyed  scoundrel  could  wish  her  dead.  Who 
told  you  that  lie,  I  say  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

Softly,  softly,  my  young  friend ;  I  don't  like  your  lan- 

fuage,  and  your  manner  is  unbusiness-like  in  the  extreme, 
wish  to  regard  the  subject  without  nonsensical  enthusi- 
asm. I'm  too  old  for  it,  by  Jove  !  I  only  said  what  I 
supposed  to  be  a  fact,  and  wanted  you  to  make  me  more 
certain  of;  and  I've  got  your  views  as  fully  as  I  want 
'em,  too. 

PAUL. 

Excuse  me  if  I  am  rude  to  you,  an  old  man  and  a  stran- 
ger ;  but  I  could  not  endure  to  hear  Miss  Huntingdon  so 
spoken  of. 

B 


10  SOLID   SILVER.  SCENE  i. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

You  are  a  relative,  I  presume  ? 

PAUL. 

I  am  simply  her  agent,  secretary  and  servant.  My 
father  was  vicar  of  this  parish,  and  greatly  beloved  by 
her's.  So  on  his  death,  and  for  my  mother's  sake,  I  was 
appointed  to  my  present  place,  and  have  held  it  five  years. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

[AH  through  the  folloimnc/  dialogue  SPONGE  Sr.  tries  to 
meddle  with  the  papers  and  books  in  the  desk.  PAUL  pre- 
vents him.'] 

Keep  the  accounts,  know  how  the  money  tide  rises  and 
falls,  rentes,  consols,  three  per  cents.,  and  all  that,  I  sup- 
pose ? 

PAUL. 

Oh,  yes  !     I  keep  the  accounts,  and  something  beside  ! 

SPONGE,  SR. 


5 

"What's  that  ? 

PAUL. 

My  own  counsel.    [SPONGE  tries  to  examine  ledger.    PAUL 
closes  it  and  lays  his  hand  on  it.'] 

SPONGE,    SR. 

Hum.     I  suppose,  now,  there  are  no  incumbrances  upon 
the  estate  ? 

PAUL. 
None. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

No  timber  being  cut  either,  I  should  say  ?     [  Trying  to 
examine  papers  in  pigeon-holes  of  desk.'] 

PAUL. 

None.     [Closes  desk,  locks  it,  and  stands  with  his  back 
leaning  against  it.~\ 

SPONGE,  SR. 
Any  likelihood  of  marriage  ? 


SCENE  i.  SOLID  SILVER,  11 

PAUL. 

I  do  not  know. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

You  ought  to  know.  Your  opportunities  for  observa- 
tion are  A  1,  gilt-edged,  as  we  say  of  paper.  If  you  don't 
know,  I  do. 

PAUL — (starts  from  desk.) 

What  do  you  know  ?  How  can  you,  who  are  a  stranger 
to  the  family,  know  anything  on  such  a  subject?  She 
has  no  lover,  at  least,  no  declared  lover ;  certainly  none 
who  would  dare  approach  her. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

For  all  that  she  will  marry  soon,  and  I  lay  you  some- 
thing handsome  I  can  name  the  man. 

PAUL. 
Who,  who  is  he  ?     (Advances  c.) 


SPONGE,  SR. 

Captain  Gerard  Morris,  reversioner  of  her  estates  and 
her  maternal  cousin.  He  is  a  fascinating  dog,  detested 
by  men,  I  admit,  but  adored  by  women,  and  she  can't 
withstand  him.  As  for  him,  ecod,  he  must  marry  her 

or 

PAUL. 
Or  what  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

Xever  you  mind  !  That's  my  business,  and  John 
Sponge,  sr.,  proposes  to  attend  to  it.  That's  what  he's 
here  for,  and [Takes  Stage  L.  IL] 

Enter  LEON,  (c.  from  R.) 

[Bringing  hat  boxes,  portmanteaus,  etc.,  which  he  places  on 
the  floor  near  the  door  L.  3  E.] 

LEON — (advances  c.) 

Monsieur  Paul,  I  know  not  what  I  shall  do.  The  big 
one  swear  at  his  apartment  and  demand  the  best  brandy 
already  four  times,  and  the  little  one  smoke  his  nasty  pipe 
in  his  room,  and  so  Madame  Busby  is  lunatic  with  the 
annoyance  of  it. 


12  SOLID   SILVER.  SCENE  i. 

PAUL. 

Mr.  Sponge,  you  had  better  remind  your  son  that  this  is 
not  an  inn.  As  to  the  other,  Leon,  he  must  go  his  own 
way.  Let  him  alone,  and  quiet  Mrs.  Busby  as  best  you 
can. 

LEON.    (C.) 

She  shall  not  be  quiet  while  she  will  inhale  the  odor  of 
that  pipe.  [LEON  retires  up  stage.'] 

SPONGE,  SR.  (advancing  towards  WEIR.) 

Good  night,  Mr.  Weir.  Thanks  for  favors.  I'll  make 
that  pipe  sing  in  shortmetre.  D — 11  that  boy  !  he's  as 
vicious  as  a  monkey,  and  has  no  more  manners  than  a  Bow- 
street  bailiff.  As  for  the  other,  Mrs.  Busby  had  better 
adapt  her  temper  to  his.  He's  a  born  devil,  if  ever  there 
was  one,  and  must  stay  here  as  master,  either  by  mar- 
riage or  death.  To  me,  as  a  business  proposition,  it  don't 
matter  which.  But  she'd  find  it  easier  to  die  and  yield 
the  lands,  than  live  and  share  them  with  him.  But  busi- 
ness is  business.  Good  night,  good  night. 

{Exit  L.  3  E. 

LEON. 

Where's  Mrs.  Busby,  Leon  ?  [LEON  advances,  L.  c.] 
I  hope  you  left  her  more  at  ease  than  you  said. 

PAUL. 

By  no  means.  When  I  last  saw  her  in  the  corridor, 
she  was  all  ready  to  make  a  descent  on  the  smoker  at 
least,  if  not  the  drunkard,  as  she  called  them.  I  think  I 
hear  her  now,  sir.  [Looking  off  R.  1  E.] 

PAUL. 

Heaven  forbid  ;  I  will  go  myself  and  dissuade  her  from 
the  attack. 

LEON. 
I  will  follow  sir,  but  at  a  safe  distance  (R.  1  E.) 

[Exeunt. 

[Enter  young  SPONGE,  L.  3  E.  When  SPONGE,  Jr.  enters, 
he  picks  up  portmanteau  near  door,  brings  it  forward  ; 
sits  in  arm-chair  R.  of  L.  table  ;  takes  key  out  of  pocket, 
unlocks  portmanteau,  and  commences  to  take  out  things  ; 
shirts,  collars,  suspenders,  slippers,  bootjack,  etc. ;  is 
smoking  a  big  pipe,  and  making  lots  of  smoke  with  iL~] 


SCENE  i.  SOLID   SILVER,  13 

SPONGE,    JR. 

This  is  comfortable,  indeed,  and  a  mighty  fine  house  ; 
beats  all  I  ever  was  allowed  to  put  my  feet  inside  of. 
How  such  an  up-and-down  vagabond  as  our  captain  could 
come  of  such  stock  I  don't  understand.  The  governor 
and  I  aren't  gentlemen,  and  don't  pretend  to  be.  We're 
business  men,  and  our  connection  with  the  blooded  ones 
only  helps  them  to  get  to  the  devil  a  trifle  taster  than 
they  otherwise  would.  But  this  one  —  he  does,  every  day 
of  his  life,  what  we  could  not  do,  and  never  blushes  at 
anything  but  his  brandy  when  it  goes  the  wrong  way. 
[Mrs.  BUSBY  enters,  R.  1  E.,  walks  up  to  SPONGE  ;  stands  gaz- 
ing at  A////  UL  amazement.']  If  it  wasn't  too  dear  a  luxury, 
I'd  wish  him  dead  and  pay  for  his  funeral,  I  would,  by — 
[perceirc*  Mrs.  BUSBY]  Hullo  !  my  charmer,  happy  to  see 
you  ;  sit  down  while  1  hunt  up  my  bootjack  and  get  these 
French  boots  off  my  trotters.  Then —  [gets  down  on  his 
knees  at  portmanteau?] 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Sir,  Mister,  whatever  you  are,  I  came  to  say 

SPONGE,  JR.  (looking  up.) 

No  apologies,  Ma'am,  I  beg  [puff].  You  needn't  excuse 
yourself  to  me  for  crowing  in  your  own  barnyard.  In 
your  place  I'll  do  the  same,  [puff"]  an(l  you're  safe  here, 
I'll  swear ;  [p>(tf  ]  your  face  would  protect  you  among 
the  Mormons  [puff]-  But  don't  you  look  in  my  mirror 
with  that  cap  on.  It  would  shiver  to  a  thousand  atoms, 
[/>f(ff  ]  and  I  hain't  seen  such  a  costume  as  that  since  my 
grandma  used  to  put  me  in  my  little  bed.  Ah,  here's  the 
bootjacker!  so  now  I'll  have  these  calfskins  off  in  a 
moment. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

If  it's  for  calfskin,  you'd  better  pull  your  hide  off — 
the  whole  of  it !  Of  all  the  impudent  young  dogs,  to  talk 
that  way  to  a  decent  old  body  like  me !  Young  man, 
what  do  you  take  me  for  ? 

[Ail  through  the  dialogue,  and  until  he  puts  pipe  out,  he 
puffs  the  smoke  in  Mrs.  B.'s  face,  and  she  keeps  coughing 
and  xhows  her  annoyance."] 


14  SOLID   SILVER.  SCENE  i. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Don't  want  you  ;  won't  take  you  on  any  terms.  How 
old  are  you  ?  Where 'd  you  get  that  awning  over  your 
front  door  ?  Where's  your  dagger,  Lady  Macbeth  ? 
Blessed  if  you  don't  look  homicidal,  anyhow !  Come 
near  me,  and  I'll  brain  you  with  my  bootjack,  and  kiss 
you  afterwards.  [Stands  in  attitude  with  bootjack.'] 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

You  insolent  little  villain,  look  at  me.  I'm  a  respecta- 
ble woman,  and  have  been  housekeeper  in  Huntingdon 
Towers  [coughs']  ever  since  its  present  mistress  was  born, 
[coughs']  and  I'll  have  you  to  understand  that  no  such 
creature  as  you  ever  got  between  sheets  in  this  house 
before  [coughs],  I  came  to  ask  you  to  put  up  that  ras- 
cally pipe,  or  go  down  to  the  smoking  room  and  blow 
your  little  brains  out  with  tobacco  there  [coughs'].  It  fills 
the  house  with  the  odor  of  a  tavern,  and  poisons  every 
breath  of  air  in  it. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

JTow  you  speak  of  it,  Mrs.  Johnson,  I  think  I  smell 
something  myself. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

Faugh !  Will  you  put  that  pipe  out  or  not  ?  And 
don't  you  dare  to  call  me  Mrs.  Johnson  again,  Mr.  what's 
your  name. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

To  oblige  you,  Grandma,  [Mrs.  B.  appears  very  indig- 
nant], I  will  quench  it.  There  she  goes.  \_Puts  pipe 
down.']  My  name  is  not  what's  y'r  name  any  more  than 
your  own.  It  is  John  Sponge,  Jr.  My  Governor's  some- 
where about,  pumping  the  clerk,  or  whatever  he  is,  whom 
we  saw  when  we  came  in. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

I'd  like  to  know  how  you  got  in  ! 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Well,  I  won't  mind  telling  you,  as  it  is  you,  dearest. 
Captain  Morris  invited  us  here  to  see  his  estates,  on  which 


SCENE  i.  SOLID   SILVER.  15 

we  have  made  large  advances  to  put  him  straight  at 
Tattersall's — for  he  lost  heavy  at  the  last  Derby,  I  tell  you. 
Now  you  know  me  and  why  I'm  here — anything  more, 
A I  rs.  Dobson  ? 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

is'o,  sir.  I  knew  all  you  have  told  me  before  you  said 
it.  Only  let  me  give  you  my  opinion  that  Captain  Morris' 
chances  to  get  these  estates,  as  you  call  them,  ain't  worth 
a  dairy  full  of  milk  in  a  thunder  shower. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Indeed ! 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

IS'o,  sir,  and  you  won't  think  so  either  when  you  see  the 
present  holder  ;  and  if  her  giving  out  is  the  only  way  for 
you  to  get  your  money  back,  why,  let  it  go,  and  do  you 
start  for  town  by  the  morning  train,  and  pick  up  a  new 
pigeon  for  plucking. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

I  wish  you'd  put  all  that  in  writing  and  hand  it  to  me 
in  the  morning.  \_Gapes.~]  It's  a  jolly  opinion!  Ain't 
you  sorry  for  us  ? 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

Xo,  sir  ;  serves  you  right.  [  Takes  stage  R.  H.]  You 
asked  my  opinion.  Kow  you've  got  it,  I  hope  you  like  it. 

Enter  SPONGE,  Sr. 

[Advances  c,  with  carpet  bag,  which  he  picks  up  near  door, 
where  LEON  has  placed  it.~\ 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Hullo,  Governor.  Glad  you've  come  ;  was  afraid  one 
time  I  was  going  to  be  sacrificed.  But  it's  all  right  now. 
The  ancient  and  me  are  at  peace.  My  pipe  is  out,  but 
she  holds  fire  still.  [Gets  up  ;  puts  valise  L.  H.] 

SPONGE,    SR.,    (C.) 

Hold  your  tongue.  Excuse  me,  ma'am,  can  I  do  any- 
thing for  you  ?  If  not,  I'll  go  about  my  business,  which 
is  to  prepare  myself  for  bed.  \_Pulls  out  a  nightcap  and 
puts  it  on,  and  takes  off  his  coat.  Mrs.  BUSBY  precipitately 


16  SOLID   SILVER.  SCENE  i. 

retires  R.  1 E.]  Thank  God  she's  gone.  John,  if  I  see  that 
pipe  in  your  mouth  again  while  we're  here,  dam 'me,  I'll 
jam  it  down  your  throat,  bowl  and  all.  We've  got 
trouble  enough  without  a  war  with  women.  Do  you 
know  where  the  captain's  room  is  ?  If  you  do,  go  there. 
If  you  don't,  find  it,  and  tell  him  I  want  to  see  him  here, 
at  once. 

SPONGE,    JR.,    (L.  H.) 

All  right,  Governor,  just  as  you  say,  but  I  don't  believe 
he'll  come.  [Crosses  R.  H.  in  front.~] 

SPONGE,  SR.,  (savagely). 
"Why  not  ? 

SPONGE,    JR. 

You  know  yourself  he's  likely  to  be  very  obstinate  at 
this  hour. 

SPONGE,  SR.,  (sits  R.  of  L.  table.) 

Tell  him  he  must  come,  and  while  you're  gone  I'll  open 
my  writing  case  and  get  out  the  documents.  \_Exit 
SPONGE,  Jr.,  R.  3  E.]  These  are  my  persuaders.  Bow- 
street  and  the  debtors'  lock-up  are  powerful  arguments. 
Let  me  see — four  and  two  are  six,  which  I  took  of  him 
myself  ;  three  and  one  is  four,  I  bought  of  the  Levi's, 
accepted  by  his  uncle,  Colonel  Delaire — only  the  accep- 
tances are  mistakes  of  my  captain,  which  would  land  him 
in  Newgate  or  Botany  Bay,  or  wherever  else  they  send 
blunderers  in  chirography.  The  game  is  almost  played 
out. 

[Enter  Captain  MORRIS,  in  dressing  gown,  slippers,  etc., 
accompanied  by  SPONGE,  Jr.] 

MORRIS. 

My  dear  Sponge,  why  send  this  cub  of  yours  for  me  at 
this  time  ?  [Lounges  in  chair  near  desk,  R.  H.] 

SPONGE,  SR. 
Because  I  wanted  you. 

MORRIS. 

There  is  nothing  come  due  since  we  parted  that  I  re- 
member, and  by  Jove,  I've  signed  away  my  soul  to  you 
already. 


SCENE  1.  SOLID   SILVER.  17; 

SPONGE,    SR. 

!N"ot  to  me  ;  to  the  devil,  you  mean. 

MORRIS. 
It 's  all  one,  Sponge  ;   but  what 's  up  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

I  want  a  talk  with  you.  The  matter  is  just  here :  I 
lend  you  £10,000  on  your  own  notes,  and  take  up  £5,000 
of  acceptances  of  Colonel  Delaire,  your  uncle,  which  you 
had  discounted  with  the  Levis. 

MORRIS. 

Is  that  all  ?  Do  you  know  I  was  afraid  it  was  20,000  ? 
I  have  been  more  moderate  than  I  thought. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

]N~ever  fear,  it  will  be  larger  than  it  is  \  Well,  for  this 
£15,000  you  give  me  as  security  a  mortgage  on  your 
reversionary  interest  in  the  Huntingdon  estates. 

MORRIS. 
Good  security,  isn't  it  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

In  one  sense,  yes.  But  to  persuade  me  to  take  it,  you 
tell  me  the  present  holder  is  in  feeble  health  and  likely 
to  drop  off  any  time,  while  from  all  I  see  and  hear,  she  is 
likely  to  outlive  you,  and  me  too  I  Morris,  I  always  be- 
lieved you  to  be  a  villain,  and  now  I'd  swear  to  it. 

MORRIS. 

Your  statement  presents  all  the  phenomena  of  virtuous 
truth,  Sponge.  What  next  ?  I  reserve  comment. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

Ah,  you  reserve  your  defense,  as  gentlemen  of  your 
sort  say  before  the  magistrates.  Well,  reserve  it  for  the 
night ;  I'll  go  to  town  to-morrow  and  have  you  brought 
to  book,  as  sure  as  my  credit  is  good  on  'Change  for  what 
I  put  my  name  to. 

MORRIS. 

As  you  like,  Sponge.     I'm  so  nearly  at  bay  that  it 
C 


18  SOLID   SILVER.  SCENE  i. 

makes  small  odds  to  me  what  you  do  ;  but  it  strikes  me, 
you  had  best  allow  me  to  play  my  last  card,  which  is  a 
tolerable  good  one,  for  our  mutual  benefit,  and  it  may 
win  for  us  both. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

But,  Morris,  you've  such  a  deuced  bad  name  in  this 
house  ;  worse  here,  I  should  say,  than  in  London.  They 
paint  the  lily,  by  Jove,  even  here. 

MORRIS,  (indifferently.] 
How  do  you  know  ? 

SPONGE,    JR. 

I  heard  the  old  woman,  who  called  on  me  so  politely  a 
while  ago,  and  that  French  waiter,  discussing  you  as  I 
came  along  the  corridor.  It's  no  matter  what  they  said 
in  detail ;  the  total  was  a  bad  balance  to  your  moral 
credit. 

MORRIS. 

Don't  be  so  sure,  my  infant  Shylock.  But  as  I  was 
saying,  [to  SPONGE,  Sr.]  I  think  the  best  way  is  not  to 
abandon  yourself  to  despair  till  I  have  lost  all ;  and  all  is 
not  yet  lost,  by  a  lon.g  shot. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

You  mean  that  marriage  is  the  game  you  will  play? 

MORRIS. 

Exactly  so.  It  is  the  only  alternative  from  the  death  I 
promised  you,  and [rising,  going  up  c.] 

Well?     Well? 

MORRIS. 

You  shall  have  one  or  the  other  within  the  month. 
Good  night.  [Exit  Captain  MORRIS,  R.  3  E. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Governor,  that's  a  very  bad  lot.  [Rising  from  sofa  and 
coming  to  L.  of  table.'] 

SPONGE,  SR. 

^  So  it  is.  Where's  my  prayer  book  ?  [After  a  pause, 
SPONGE,  Jr.  and  SPONGE,  Sr.  exchange  looks.  SPONGE,  Sr. 


SCENE  i.  SOLID   SILVER.  19 


open*  ctirjit  /-/^/v,  W,vx  nut  prayer  book.~\  What  are  the 
psalms  for  to-day?  What  day  is  this?  To-morrow, 
I3ulger's  note  is  due,  and  we've  got  insurance  coming  in 
on  that  loss  of  the  "  Comet."  Yes,  to-day's  the  twenty- 
fifth,  and  I'll  read  those  for  to-day,  to  please  your  mother. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

It's  a  big  loss,  but  I'll  stand  my  share  of  it,  and  drop 
the  whole  job,  if  you  will  consent.  There's  something  in 
such  a  conspiracy  against  an  orphan  girl's  life  or  property 
that  tastes  worse  than  bad  tobacco  and  stale  beer  to  me. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

.Don't  be  a  fool,  and  don't  interrupt  your  father's 
evening  devotions.  Business  is  business,  and  we'll  do  no 
more  till  to-morrow.  [Reads  very  busily.'] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Certainly,  Governor  !  By  the  way,  did  I  tell  you  I 
heard  great  news  of  the  Cornwall  shares,  just  as  we  were 
leaving  town  ?  Snapper  met  me  on  'Change,  and  says 

he  -  - 

SPONGE,    SR. 

(  Throwing  down  the  book  on  table  and  rising  very  nimbly. 
SPONGE,  Jr.  rises  same  time  and  follows  his  father  toward  c.) 
]S"o,  you  did  not.  What  was  it  ?  If  they  advance  five 
per  cent.,  will  sell  all  ours,  and  give  'em  five  hundred 
more  seller  thirty.  We'll  sell  on  a  rising  market,  and 
leave  fools  to  unload  in  the  panic.  How  much  advance, 
eh  ?  [SPONGE,  Sr.  speaks  rapidly  and  in  a  very  excited 
manner."] 

[SPONGE,  Jr.  takes  up  the  book,  seats  himself  in  his  father's 
chair  very  deliberately,  and  reads  with  great  affected 
diligence!] 

SPONGE,  SR. 
Come,  John  !     Don't  keep  me  waiting  all  night,  John  ! 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  ain't  a  fool.  Don't  interrupt  your  son's  evening  devo- 
tions to  the  golden  calf.  Business  is  business,  and  we  will 
do  no  more  till  to-morrow. 


G^C  U  R  T  A  I  N.; 


ACT     SECOND. 


SCENE  I. — Drawing-room  at  Huntingdon  Towers,  elegantly 
furnished.  KATE  DELAIRE  discovered  sitting  at  table 
at  R.  arranging  flowers  ;  near  her  stands  CLEMEN- 
TINE, BERTHA'S  maid. 

KATE. 
Clementine,  where 's  your  mistress  ? 

CLEMENTINE. 

She  is  out  on  horseback,  Miss  Kate. 

KATE. 

Did  she  go  alone  ? 

CLEMENTINE. 

The  Captain  accompanied  her,  Miss  Kate. 

KATE. 

How  she  endures  him  I  can't  understand  ;  interfering, 
as  he  does,  with  every  act  of  her  life,  and  as  full  of  dicta- 
tion as  a  full-grown  husband.  Yet  she  only  says,  "  Yes, 
Captain  Morris,"  and  "!N"o,  cousin,"  instead  of  cuffing  his 
big  ears  and  sending  him,  like  one  of  his  own  soldiers,  to 
the  right-about.  Bah  !  it  makes  me  sick,  I  declare  ! 

CLEMENTINE. 

For  all  that,  he  is  by  no  means  sure  of  his  ground.  He 
ottered  me  a  guinea,  the  day  before  yesterday,  to  ask  her 
what  she  thought  of  him,  and  report  her  answer. 

KATE. 

No  !  Did  he,  though  ?  It  would  not  cost  him  a  guinea 
to  get  my  opinion  of  him. 


22  SOLID  SILVER.  SCENE  i. 

CLEMENTINE. 

Don't  you  think  him  handsome,  at  least  ? 

KATE. 

He's  a  perfect  ogre  !  But  handsome  or  homely,  I 
would  not  have  such  a  lover  if  I  lived  unmarried  in  this 
life,  and  hereafter  nursed  cats  in  the  lower  region,  as  they 
say  old  maids  do. 

CLEMENTINE. 

I  think  all  men  would  make  slaves  of  all  women,  if 
they  had  the  courage. 

KATE. 

Well,  my  husband  may  bully  me,  and  I  presume  he 
will — the  brutes  generally  do  ;  but  my  lover  shan't,  that's 
certain.  Did  you  take  his  guinea,  Clementine  ? 

CLEMENTINE. 

I  don't  look  a  woman  to  refuse  a  guinea,  do  I  ?  Of 
course  I  took  it,  and  also  the  brandyfied  kiss  he  graciously 
bestowed  along  with  it,  without  a  murmur. 

KATE. 

Did  he  have  the  impudence  to  do  that  ?  And  you 
allowed  it  ?  Clementine,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed. 

CLEMENTINE. 

Bless  you,  Miss  Kate,  servants  get  used  to  that,  when 
men  like  the  Captain  are  in  the  way. 

KATE. 

Clementine,  I'll  tell  Miss  Bertha,  as  soon  as  I  see  her. 
I  will,  indeed. 

CLEMENTINE. 

Oh,  I  told  her  myself. 

KATE. 

What  did  she  say  ? 

CLEMENTINE. 

She  laughed,  and  said  she  wouldn't  be  in  my  place  for 
a  good  deal.  Ah  !  I  hear  her  coming  in  the  hall  door. 
Excuse  me,  Miss  Kate.  [Courtsies  and  goes  towards  door 
at  back  and  centre  of  sceneJ] 


SCENE  i.  SOLID   SILVER.  23 

Enter  BERTHA,  in  riding  habit,  tall  hat  wrapped  with  white 
veil,  riding  whip,  etc. 

BERTHA. 

(Kissing  Kate,  throws  herself  into  sofa,  L.  H.)  Good 
morning,  Kate.  Oh  !  I  am  so  hot !  I've  had  such  a  race 
on  dear  old  "Titan,"  and  we've  both  come  in  piping,  I 
can  tell  you.  Oh,  Kate  !  where  did  you  get  those  lovely 
flowers  'r  I  went  all  through  the  garden,  yesterday,  and 
found  none  worth  picking  ;  they  were  all  wilted  and 
<lusty,  as  if  they  were  tired  of  life,  as,  heigho  !  I  am, 
sometimes,  myself. 

KATE. 

The  gardener  brought  me  these  splendid  roses  ;  put 
some  in  your  hair  when  you  change  your  dress.  Here's 
two  beauties  !  [BERTHA  takes  roses  and  puts  them  in  her 
dress.']  But  this  heliotrope  I  got  from  Mr.  Weir. 

BERTHA. 

Let's  see  it.  That  reminds  me,  Clementine  ;  tell  Mr. 
Weir  I  wish  to  see  him.  [Exit  CLEMENTINE  R.  3  E. 
BERTHA  takes  the  heliotrope,  and,  as  she  talks,  removes 
the  roses  from  her  habit,  lets  them  fall  on  the  floor,  and 
replaces  them  with  the  heliotrope.']  I  have 'nt  told  you 
what  I've  done  this  morning.  First  and  foremost,  I 
ran  away  from  Captain  Morris.  That's  the  third 
time  this  week.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  His  pretty  hack  may 
do  for  Hyde  Park,  but  he  can't  keep  the  pace  with 
"  Titan  !"  You  see,  we  rode  quietly  enough  down  the 
avenue  as  far  as  the  big  oaks,  and  then  I  turned  off  and 
rode  Titan  straight  at  the  high  hedge  that  shuts  in  the 
deer  park.  He  flew  it  like  a  bird,  and  as  I  rode  off,  I 
heard  the  captain  ask  the  groom,  in  the  ugliest  tone, 

where  the (such  a  naughty  awful  word,  "Katie,)  the 

gate  was  ?  I'm  afraid  the  captain  is  unprepared  to  have 
his  neck  broken,  [enter  MORRIS,  unperceived,  in  riding 
costume,~\  and  I'm  afraid  he's  a  trifle  timid.  It's  a  hard 
thing  to  say  of  a  soldier  and  my  own  cousin  ;  but  if  he 
don't  fight  for  his  country  any  more  desperately  than  he 
rides  for  me,  he  won't  be  found  among  the  dead  or  the 
wounded. 


24  SOLID   SILVER.  SCENE  i. 

KATE. 

Don't  waste  any  more  precious  breath  on  him.  Let  us 
drop  him  where  you  did.  What  next  ? 

BERTHA. 

Then  I  went  past  dear  old  Mrs.  Weir's,  and  there  I  met 
the  De  Landes  and  Lady  Emily  Peele  on  their  way  to 
see  the  preparations  for  my  birthday  fete,  and  then  gal- 
loped home.  That's  my  morning's  work  ;  what  do  you 
think  of  it  ? 

MORRIS,  (coming  forward  c.) 

If  you  appeal  to  me,  Bertha,  I  can  only  say  I  hope  the 
pleasure  you  seem  to  have  given  others  is  equal  to  my 
annoyance,  though  I  ought  to  be  resigned  to  such  treat- 
ment when  I  see  you  so  delighted  to  retail  it. 

BERTHA. 

Cousin,  I'm  sorry  I  annoyed  you,  and  regret  you  over- 
heard what  I  said  to  Kate  just  now.  Please  forgive  me  ! 
[Gives  her  hand  to  MORRIS.] 

KATE,  (aside.} 

Just  hear  her  beg  that  man's  pardon  !  I'll  try  my  hand. 
[KATE  rises,  and  advances  to  MORRIS.]  Captain  Morris,  I 
regret  my  pleasure  disturbed  your  equanimity,  but  I  never 
enjoyed  anything  more  in  my  life.  Ha  !  Ha  !  It's  the 
only  real  happiness  you  have  given  me  since  you  came 
to  the  Towers,  and  it  will  do,  sir,  if  I  have  no  more 
till 

MORRIS. 

Well,  till  when  ? 

KATE. 

Till  you  go  away.  [BERTHA  retires  up  stage,  looking  at 
the  flowers,  etc.'] 

MORRIS. 

I'd  like  to  be  equally  frank.  I'd  love  to  tell  you,  my 
dear  cousin,  what  I  think  of  your  interesting  self. 

KATE. 

Give  your  opinion,  Gerard,  to  those  who  seek  it.  One 
thing  you  may  be  sure  of 


ACT  ii— SCENE  1.       SOLID   SILVER,  25 

MORRIS.  ^ 

AVliat  is  that,  pray  ': 

KATE. 

I  wouldn't  give  a  guinea  for  it.  I  might  give  a  kiss  ; 
it  is  easily  minted,  but  a  guinea — never!  Ha!  Ha! 
I  la! 

MORRIS,   (aside.] 

\Vhat  can  shu  mean  ?  Can  Clementine  have  betrayed 
my  confidence  '!  \_To  KATE.]  I  don't  understand  you,  but 
I  don't  know  it's  worth  while  making  the  attempt. 

KATE. 

I'd  advise  you  not  to  try.  I  don't  think  you'd  hear 
anything  to  your  advantage. 

BERTHA,  (comes  down  c.) 

Come,  dear  friends,  a  truce  to  quarreling.  [KATE  and 
MORRIS  separate  annoyed.~\  This  lovely  morning  breathes 
nothing  but  peace  and  good  will  out  of  doors.  Let  us 
have  sunshine  indoors  as  well.  Excuse  my  preaching, 
Kate,  darling  ;  but  I  am  growing  old,  and  can  take  liberties 
with  young  people.  Only  think  !  I  shall  be  twenty-one 
to-morrow. 

KATE. 

I  shall  be  earliest  to  bid  you  good  morning,  dear  !  first 
to  wish  the  close  of  the  year  may  [looking  at  MORRIS,]  see 
you  still  heart  whole  and  fancy  free,  excepting  always 
myself  and  Titan. 

MORRIS. 

Xo  one  will  desire  your  happiness  more  than  I,  Bertha, 
or  do  more  to  contribute  towards  it  than 

Enter  LEON,  (L.  8  E.) 

LEON. 

The  Earl  and  Countess  De  la  Lande,  Lady  Emily  Peele, 
and  Mr.  Barclay  have  arrived,  Miss  Huntingdon. 

MORRIS. 
Show  them  up,  sir. 

LEON. 

I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Huntingdon.     [Advances  a  little.'] 
D 


26  SOLID  SILVER.       ACT  n— SCENE  1. 

MORRIS. 

]3on't  yon  hear  me,  you  French  fool ;  show  them  up. 

LEON. 
I  beg  pardon,  Mademoiselle. 

BERTHA. 

Do  as  Captain  Morris  says,  Leon. 

LEON. 
Certainly,  Mademoiselle.  [Exit  LEON,  L.  3  E. 

KATE,  (aside.} 

That  Leon  is  a  darling.  If  I  had  a  guinea,  I'd  give  it 
him,  and  I  could  almost  give  him  a  kiss,  a  la  Morris. 

[Enter  Earl  and  Countess  DE  LA  LANDE,  Lady  EMILY  PEELE, 
and  Mr.  BARCLAY.  All  exchange  greetings.  Countess 
kisses  BERTHA.  BERTHA  asks  them  to  sit.  MORRIS 
sits  in  arm-chair,  L.  corner.  Countess  and  EMILY  on 
sofa.  BARCLAY  takes  chair  back  of  sofa,  and  sits 
between  sofa  and  MORRIS.  Earl  takes  chair  from  near 
stand,  L.  c.,  brings  it  forward  and  sits.  BERTHA  takes 
chair  from  back  of  table.'] 

COUNTESS. 

[To  BERTHA.]  Well,  dear,  we've  reached  here  almost  as 
soon  as  you  ;  though  you  went  flying  across  country  ! 
[To  Captain  MORRIS.]  Why,  Captain,  you're  in  riding 
costume  !  Were  you  with  Bertha  ?  We  did  not  see  you, 
did  we,  Emily  ? 

LADY   EMILY. 

Ko,  unless  he  was  the  young  gentleman,  with  his  hands 
full  of  heliotrope,  whom  I  saw  her  salute  so  graciously  in 
the  avenue,  as  she  charged  along  before  us. 

KATE. 

So,  indeed  ?  I  think  she  has  the  flowers  now,  in  return 
for  the  salute.  Oh  !  Bertha,  you  hypocrite  ! 

BERTHA. 

Hush,  Kate,  I  beg  you  ! 


ACT  n— SCENE  1.       SOLID  SILVER.  27 

* 

MORRIS. 

No,  Lady  Emily,  I  was  not  the  individual  with  the 
flowers  ;  he  was  probably  the  gardener,  or  some  such 
fellow. 

KATE. 

Oh,  no  !  Captain  Morris  hasn't  been  gathering  flowers. 
He  has  been  riding — I  should  say  hunting. 

BARCLAY. 

Hunting  ?  This  is  not  the  season  ;  won't  be  for  four 
months  to  come. 

KATE. 
For  all  that,  he  was  hunting.     Weren't  you,  Gerard  ? 

MORRIS. 
I  was  not. 

KATE. 

Yes,  he  was,  though  —  hunting  gates  in  hedges  over 
which  Bertha  leaped.  Could  not  find  any !  Ha !  ha ! 
Out  of  season,  I  think  he  said,  and  so  rode  home,  like  a 
good  boy.  Ha  !  ha  ! 

MORRIS,  (aside.) 

D— n  her ! 

BERTHA. 

Kate,  if  you  don't  control  that  mischievous  tongue  of 
yours,  you  shan't  stay  in  the  room.  I'll  send  you  out  of 
doors,  as  they  do  naughty  children. 

KATE  (mischievously). 
1 1  get  y 
Perhaps  you'll  go  for  that,  yourself. 

BERTHA,  (pettishly.) 
Kate,  you're  a  nuisance.     [Rises.~] 

EARL. 

Miss  Bertha,  I  would  like  to  look  at  your  efforts  in 
decorations  for  the  birthday  fete.  I  hear  they  are 
extremely  tasteful. 

BERTHA. 

I  think  they  are  pretty  ;  but  don't  give  me  credit  for 
them. 


Shall  I  get  you  some  more  heliotrope,  dear,  when  I  go  ? 


28  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  n— SCENE  1. 

COUNTESS. 

Who  is  entitled  to  it,  then,  if  you  are  not  ? 

BERTHA. 

Mr.  Weir,  the  manager  of  the  estates  since  papa  died. 
lie  has  made  these  plans,  and,  in  fact,  designed  every- 
thing for  me  ;  and  here  he  is.  [Enter  PAUL  WEIR,  (R.  3  E.) 
with  roll  of  drawings  under  Ins  arm.']  Allow  me  to 
present  Mr.  Weir.  [PAUL  advances  R.  n.  ;  bows  cicilly ; 
no  one  returns  his  bow,  but  all  simply  stare  at  him,  and  then 
turn  awo.y.  KATE,  annoyed  at  the  manner  in  winch  they 
treat  PAUL,  bow  srery  politely  to  him,  and  looks  indignant  at 
the  others.']  Mr.  Weir,  excuse  me  ;  when  I  sent  for  you, 
I  was  alone  ;  at  least,  only  Miss  Delaire  was  here.  I 
wished  to  enquire  if  you  had  completed  the  design  for 
covering  the  pavilion  V 

PAUL. 

It  is  finished.  I  have  brought  it  with  me.  [Hands  it 
to  her,  and  retires  R.  H.] 

BERTHA. 

[Crosses  L.  c.  with  drawing.  They  crowd  round  her."] 
Oh  !  is  not  this  lovely  ?  Just  look,  all  of  you  !  [All 
gather  and  examine.~\ 

LADY    EMILY,   (L.  C.) 

[  To  BARCLAY.]  Is  not  that  the  man  with  the  heliotrope 
whom  we  passed  in  the  park  ? 

[Countess  and  Earl,  after  glancing  at  drawing,  retire 
up.-] 

BARCLAY  (L.  H.) 

I  don't  know  ;  perhaps  he  is  ;  but  these  working  men 
all  look  alike.  What  is  he,  captain  ?  Belongs  to  the 
place,  I  suppose  ? 

MORRIS,  (L.) 

You'd  think  this  place  belonged  to  him,  by  the  way  he 
is  allowed  to  direct  its  affairs.  The  same  fuss  is  made 
always  that  you  see  now  made  over  these  very  common 
designs  of  his.  [MORRIS  moves  towards  c.  EMILY,  BAR- 
CLAY retire  up  a  little,  and  converse  with  Earl,  Countess.] 


r  ii— SCENE  1.       SOLID   SILVER.  29 


KATE,    (<i<lr<iin-ni<j  towards    MORRIS.) 

Oil,  yes,  very  common  ;  but  ladies,  [all  turn  towards 
MORRIS,]  you  sin  mid  see  the  captain's  designs*  He  has 
some  that  take  in  the  irhnlc  cxldlc.  Ilave'nt  you,  captain  V 
He's  too  modest  to  exhibit  them  in  public,  but  we'll  all 
hear  of  them  in  good  time.  Ha  !  ha  ! 

MORRIS. 

I  have  nothing  of  the  sort.  [Takes  PAUL'S  designs  from 
BERTHA'S  hands,  rolls  them  up  and  throios  them  contemp- 
tft on*/;/  on  the  floor  towards  PAUL.  PAUL  picks  them  up  and 
holds  them.'] 

KATE. 

You  know  you  have,  but  iiimporte!  they  won't  be 
adopted.  [Goes  up  c.] 

COUNTESS. 

Come  !  let  us  go  to  the  pavilion,  and  Bertha,  dear, 
please  order  us  something  to  eat,  for  I'm  nearly  famished. 
[Countess  takes  BARCLAY'S  arm;  Lady  EMILY  and  the  Earl 
more  towards  door,  R.  u.  E.] 

MORRIS,  (crosses  to  R.  c.) 

\_To  PAUL.]  Here,  you  !  Have  some  refreshment  pre- 
pared in  the  dining-room  when  we  return  ! 

KATE,  (advancing  L.  c.) 

And  after  that,  please,  Mr.  Weir,  tell  Clementine  that 
Captain  Morris  wishes  to  speak  with  her  privately,  on 
business  of  importance,  at  her  earliest  convenience  ! 

BERTHA. 

Kate,  I  wish  you'd  hush. 

[All  commence  to  leave  the  room;  the  Earl  takes  Lady 
EMILY  and  KATE.] 

MORRIS. 

[Advancing  to  BERTHA.]  Console  me  by  accepting  my 
escort.  [Offers  his  arm  and  stands  waiting  with  it  extended."] 

BERTHA. 

[To  MORRIS.]  Certainly.  [BERTHA  advances  to  PAUL.] 
I  will  relieve  you  of  the  annoyance  of  accompanying  us. 
[Exeunt  all  bat  MORRIS,  PAUL  and  BERIHA  ;  she  takes  the 


30  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  n— SCENE  2. 

drawings  from  PAUL'S  hands;  he  stands  with  eyes  fixed  on  the 
carpet  J]  I  know  you  will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe  I 
did  not  intend  to  expose  you  to  this  great  rudeness.  If 

you  only  knew 

MORRIS. 

We  are  waiting,  Miss  Huntingdon. 

[BERTHA  takes  the  Captain's  arm  and  starts  to  go  with 
him,  falters  and  looks  back  at  PAUL.  MORRIS  takes  BERTHA 
off  R.  3  E.  and  appears  very  much  annoyed.  PAUL  crosses  to 
L.  H.  in  front,  watching  them.'] 

PAUL. 

I  am  no  man  if  I  remain  here  longer.  This  ceaseless 
hunger  of  my  heart :  this  suffocating  tide  of  hopeless  love, 
these  bitter  jealousies  and  vain  regrets,  will  drive  me  mad. 
She  reads  my  heart.  I  saw  just  now  the  light  of  pity 
shining  from  her  eyes,  as  speechless  stars  shine  from  the 
vault  of  night,  far,  far  above  me.  I  can  endure  no  more 
without  the  loss  of  that  proud  self-respect  which  has  so 
long  restrained  my  traitor  tongue.  Why  should  I  suffer 
thus  ?  I  owe  no  duty  which  should  hold  me  in  slavery 
to  a  wretch  like  him.  Yes,  I  will  go  ;  but  until  then,  let 
him  beware.  Let  him  win  her,  if  he  can  ;  squander  her 
fortune,  and  break  her  innocent  heart  at  last.  I  can  not 
interpose  to  save  her.  But  let  him  beware,  I  say,  once 
more  to  lord  it  over  me,  or  turn  again  towards  me  his 
cool,  contemptuous  glance.  He'll  find  more  manhood  in 
me  than  his  Lordship  bargains  for.  \_Exit  R.  1  E. 


SCENE  II. — Corridor  in  Huntingdon  Towers.  High-paneled 
wainscoting  and  windows  with  diamond-shaped  panes 
of  glass. 

Enter  Mrs.  BUSBY,  (R.  1  E.) 

I  believe  I'm  going  crazy  !  To  see  these  men  doing 
the  Lord  knows  what,  and  plotting  to  kidnap  Lord  knows 
who  under  our  very  noses,  is  enough  to  worrit  one's  seven 
senses  to  nothing  !  I  wish  I  were  a  man  !  But  oh,  Lord  ! 
what 's  the  good  of  wishing  ?  and  I'm  delaying  here 


ACT  ii—  SCENE  2.      SOLID  SILVER,  31 

chattering  away  to  myself,  when  I  should  be  about  my 
business,  and  there  's  enough  of  it,  I  should  say.  [Crosses 
and  meets  SPONGE,  Jr.  entering  L.  1  E.] 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Good  morning,  Mrs.  Busby.  You  look  as  fresh  as  a 
daisy.  You're  a  happy  woman  to-day,  to  judge  by  your 
smiling  face. 

MRS.  BUSBY,  (simpering.] 

I  don't  know  about  my  looks,  Mr.  Sponge.  I'm  as  the 
Lord  made  me.  But  I'm  not  smiling,  nor  yet  happy. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Nothing  is  the  matter  with  you,  Buzzy,  I  hope. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

You  hope  !  much  you  can  hope  in  this  world  or  the 
next,  with  your  schemes  to  destroy  everybody's  peace  ; 
and  don't  you  call  me  "Buzzy."  I'm  not  buzzy. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Count  me  out  in  that  game,  my  blossom  !  I've  not 
been  here  a  week  for  nothing. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Your  father  and  the  Captain  are  in  it,  though,  and 
that's  the  same  thing. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Don't  visit  those  venerable  sinners'  crimes  on  this  gen- 
eration !  I  say  nothing  for  the  Captain,  he's  a  bad  lot, 
and  always  was.  But  the  Governor  can't  hurt  !  He'd 
be  a  nice  old  ambassador  at  the  court  of  Cupid.  I  don't 
believe  you'd  listen  to  him. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Me  listen  to  him  ?  I  wish  you  would  both  go  home  — 
that  's  my  heart's  desire  morning,  noon  and  night  ! 


l,  he  won't  and  I  can't, 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Why  riot  ?  you  don't  expect  to  marry  an  heiress  and 
settle  here  ? 


32  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  n— SCENE  2. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  don't  want  an  heiress  ;  I  am  one  myself.  I  want  a 
wife,  and  I'd  as  soon  settle  for  her  here  as  anywhere. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

And  you're  in  love  ?     Oh,  Lord  ! 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Buzzy,  I'm  a  goner !  dead  in  love,  and  hopeless  be- 
sides. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Clementine,  I  presume. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Clementine  -be —  blessed  !  Don't  make  fun  of  me,  but 
it's  Miss  Kate. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Go  home  and  get  cured.     It's  no  use.     I  know  her. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Don't  you  think  I  stand  to  win  at  any  odds  ? 

MRS.  BUSBY, 

Honestly,  now  ? 

SPONGE,  JR, 

Honor  bright  and  shining. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

Oh  !  ask  herself.  Say  some  of  the  polite  things  you've 
said  to  me  ;  you'll  get  your  answer. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  dare  n't !  but  Buzzy,  dear,  I'd  make  a  gilt-edged 
husband  for  her.  She's  poor  and  I'm  rich  now,  and  when 
the  Governor  is  translated  I'll  just  be  rotten  with  money. 
I'd  give  it  all  for  one  smile,  this  minute.  It  isn't  more 
than  two  to  one  against  me  ? 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

I  think  they'd  all  be  against  you.  I  want  to  spare  your 
feelings,  young  man,  for  you've  been  always  so  consid- 
erate of  mine,  and  therefore  would  simply  remark  that  I 
am  afraid  she  would  not  touch  you  with  a  pair  of  tongs  ! 


ACT  ii— SCKNK  i>.        SOLID    SILYKR.  :>.:)» 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  don't  tlii nk,  myself,  I'd  let  her  handle  me  with  that 
sort  of  hardware.  Thank  you  for  ] Hitting  it  so  mildly  ; 

l»ut 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

You  know  you  are  not  fit  for  her,  if  yon  know  any- 
thing. 

SPONGE,  JR. 
I'm  old  enough. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

Old  in  sin,  I'll  warrant. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

That's  true,  Buzzy,  God  knows.  I've  wished  a  thou- 
sand times,  since  I  saw  her,  that  I  could  wash  the  stains 
of  London  life  out  of  my  soul,  and  be  as  pure  as  she  is. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

It  can't  he  done.     [Sighing.'] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

It  can't !  My  heart's  all  right,  my  head  is  level,  and 
I've  lots  of  resolution.  You'll  see.  I'm  bound  to  win. 
I'm  getting  courage  every  hour.  Oh  !  here  she  comes. 
I  don't  know  how  it  is  ;  when  I  think  of  her,  I'm  as 
bold  as  a  lion,  and  when  I  see  her,  I  feel  as  weak  as 
water ! 

Enter  KATE,  with  small  basket,  L.  1  E.  She  crosses  to  Mrs. 
B.  ;  then  looks  over  her  shoulder  at  SPONGE,  Jr.  who 
stands  bowing  timidly.'] 

Good  morning. 

KATE — (bows  slightly.) 
Good  morning. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Xice  morning. 

KATE. 

Yes. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Are  you  pretty  well  ?     You  look  very  pretty  —  well. 
Yes,  it's  a  nice  morning. 
E 


34  SOLID   SILVER,      ACT  n— SCENE  3. 

KATE — (furns  away.) 

Oh  !  Mrs.  Busby,  I  am  so  glad  to  find  you.  You're 
dreadfully  wanted  in  the  pavilion  —  and  I've  to  go  for 
some  flowers  ! 

SPONGE,  JR. — (bashfully.) 

I'll  save  you  the  trouble,  and  go  for  them,  if  you'll 
allow  me. 

KATE,  (indifferently.) 

TJianks.  \_Gic-es  him  the  basket. ~]  And  now,  Mrs. 
Busby,  let's  go.  [KATE  crosses  to  R.  n.  SPONGE  follows  ; 
offers  his  arm  ;  she  looks  at  him  disdainfully,  and  exits  R.  1  E. 
He  turns  and  looks  at  Mrs.  B.] 

MRS.    BUSBY,    (crosses  to  R.  1  E.) 

I  told  you  you'd  get  your  answer.  [Exit  R.  1  E. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I've  got  it!  "Thanks"  is  brief,  but  it's  expressive! 
Blessed  basket !  If  roses  were  rubies  and  lilies  were 
pearls,  I'd  fill  you  till  you  overflowed  !  [Kisses  the  han- 
dle. Exit  R.  1  E.] 


SCENE  III.  —  PAUL'S  home;  neat  room,  boxed;  door  c.  ; 
windows  R.  L.  r. ;  fireplace  R.  2  E.  ;  door  R.  3  E.  ;  door 
or  window  L.  H.  Large  square  of  plain  carpet  laid 
c.  Small  round  table,  c.  spread  for  two.  Arm-chair 
left  of  table ;  book-case  up  R.  H.,  with  books  seen 
through  glass  door.  Neat  tables  at  windows,  R.  and  L.  F., 
with  plants  on  them.  Lounge  L.  H.  Plain  clock  and 
ornaments  on  mantel;  engravings  on  wall;  chintz 
curtains  to  windows  ;  fire  burning  ;  mat  before  fire- 
place ;  fender,  etc.  Small  vases  on  mantel,  with 
-flowers.  Boiling  water  in  tea-kettle.  Mat  before  door. 
Mrs.  WEIR  discovered  busying  herself  about  arrange- 
ments of  table. 


ACT  ii— SCENE  3.       SOLID   SILVER.  35 

Enter  PAUL,  c.     Mrs.  WEIR  nn r/.v  A////  ;  //icy  advance  c. 

PAUL. 

Well,  mother  dear,  how  lias  the  day  gone  with  you? 
Pleasantly,  I  hope.  It's  been  Jovely  out  of  doors,  and 
such  days  make  us  all  happier,  and,  I  think,  better, 
mother. 

MRS.    WEIR. 

Where  have  you  been,  Paul  ?  You're  later  than  usual. 

PAUL. 

I've  had  quite  a  walk  across  the  park,  and  amused 
myself  by  starting  a  pheasant  or  two,  as  I  came  along  ; 
and  now  I'm  quite  ready  for  a  cup  of  tea  with  you.  [Mrs. 
WEIR  takes  tea-kettle  from  hob  ;  pours  water  in  tea-pot  to 
i  a  a  he  tea.~] 

MRS.    WEIR. 

I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  say  you  feel  like  enjoying 
something,  Paul,  for  I've  been  dreadfully  worried,  about 
you  lately. 

PAUL. 

I  am  sorry  for  that,  mother.     What  has  disturbed  you  ? 

MRS.  WEIR. 

Oh  !  you've  looked  so  pale  and  wearied  on  your  return 
from  your  duties,  and  you've  slept  so  little,  and  been  so 
restless  even  in  your  sleep,  that  I  have  been  fearful  that 
things  didn't  go  right  at  the  Towers. 

PAUL. 

Don't  worry  for  me,  mother.  Everything  is  right  at 
the  Towers,  so  far  as  I  know.  I  feel  my  responsibilities 
too  much,  perhaps,  for  Miss  Huntingdon  leaves  everything 
to  my  judgment ;  and  sometimes  I  feel  ashamed  to  "decide 
for  her  as  I  have  to  do.  I  fear  some  day  she  will  think 
me  assuming,  and  I  would  rather  die  than  have  her 
think  that  of  my  father's  son. 

MRS.    WEIR. 

Never  fear  that,  Paul  ;  you  are  too  sensitive  by  half. 
But  the  tea  is  ready,  so  sit  down,  [they  sit,~\  and  I'll  bring 
it  to  you.  [Gives  Mm  his  tea,  etc.~\  Any  news  at  the 


36  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  n— SCENE  3. 

Towers,  dear  ?     Are  those  men  from  London  there  still  ? 
And  Captain  Morris,  is  he  there  '! 

PAUL. 

Yes,  mother,  they  are  there.  The  elder  Sponge  is  the 
most  provokingly  inquisitive  and  meddlesome  of  men. 
I  am  as  cautious  as  I  know  how  to  be  ;  but  I  really 
believe  that  old  sinner  has  possessed  himself  of  every 
material  iact  and  circumstance  connected  with  Miss 
Huntingdon's  affairs.  I  never  go  out  of  the  library,  but 
I  find  him  prying  round  my  desk  when  I  come  back. 

MRS.  WEIR. 

Is  the  son  anything  like  the  father  ? 

PAUL. 

The  son  is  a  purse-proud  little  prig,  yet  there  is  something 
human  in  him.  But  mother,  Captain  Morris  fills  me  with 
horror.  I  curse  the  reversion  every  time  I  see  him.  You 
should  see  how  insolent  he  is,  ordering  about  the  servants 
and  everybody;  why,  he  even  went  to  the  stables  yesterday, 
and  commanded  the  stud  groom  to  change  Titan's  box 
and  food,  and  hinted  broadly  that  his  word  was  to  be  law 
in  house  and  stable  hereafter,  and  those  who  would  not 
obey  him  had  better  go  about  their  business.  Think  of 
that,  mother ! 

MRS.  WEIR. 

What  does  Miss  Huntingdon  say  to  all  this  ? 

PAUL. 

In  the  house  she  is  silent.  But  the  stud  groom  told  me 
she  looked  in  at  the  stables  this  afternoon,  and  when  she 
saw  Titan  out  of  his  box,  she  asked  him  who  ordered  that  V 
He  replied  "the  captain."  "Put  Titan  back,  if  you 
please,"  said  she,  "and  take  your  orders  from  Mr.  Weir 
or  myself."  That's  the  only  self  assertion  I've  known 
her  to  be  guilty  of,  since  he  came. 

MRS.  WEIR. 
Do  you  think  she  likes  him  ? 

PAUL. 
God  forbid  I  should  try  to  judge  her  heart.     He  is  con- 


ACT  II—SCEXE  3.       SOLID   SILVER.  37 

stunt lv  with  her,  han^s  over  her  at  her  embroidery,  and 
follows  her  in  her  walks  and  visits.  Once  lie  tried  riding 
with  her,  hut  Jim  says  she  leaped  the  park  palings  and 
ran  away  from  him  ;  but  I  don't  know 

MRS.  WEIR. 

But  all  this  does  not  concern  you,  Paul,  dear.  Why 
should  it  disturb  you  ''. 

PAUL. 

I  know  I  have  no  right,  mother,  to  desire  anything  but 
her  happiness  and  honorable  marriage,  yet  the  fear 
that  this  man,  who,  by  all  repute,  is  a  bankrupt  scoun- 
drel, should  become  her  husband,  makes  me  wretched. 
I  have  been  thinking  to-day  that  her  marriage  to  him 
was  nearer  than  I  supposed.  She  took  her  father's 
will  the  other  day,  and  read  and  re-read  it ;  then  asked  me 
for  a  statement  of  her  accumulated  funds,  and  told  me  to 
send  for  Mr.  Oldcastle,  her  solicitor,  some  day  next  week. 
What  do  you  suppose  that  means,  mother? 

MRS.  WEIR. 

I  don't  know  what  that  means,  but  I  don't  think  she 
acted  like  a  woman  about  to  marry  when  she  was  here  to- 
day. She 

PAUL. 

Was  she  here  to-day,  mother  ?  God  bless  her  for  think- 
ing of  us — I  mean  you,  mother.  Where  did  she  sit '( 
What  did  she  say  ?  Tell  me  all  about  it  from  beginning 

to  end.     When  she 

MRS.  WEIR. 

Who  ever  heard  a  boy  rattle  on  so  ?  I  can't  answer 
half  your  questions,  my  child.  She  was  here  this  after- 
noon, and  stayed  an  hour.  And  so  affectionate  and  gentle  ! 
I  could  have  fancied  her  my  own  lost  baby  daughter 
grown  to  womanhood.  l)o  you  know,  Paul,  she  looked 
mostly  at  your  books  and  your  music,  and  I 

PAUL. 
Did  she,  mother  ?  did  she  ? 

MRS.    WEIR. 

And  now  I  remember,  she  said  herself  you  did  not  look 


38  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  n— SCENE  3. 

well,  and  asked  me  if  I  thought  you  overworked,  and  said, 
"  Be  careful  of  Paul,  Mrs.  Weir,  for  neither  of  us  can 
spare  him  now."  I  looked  at  her,  and  she  was  smiling 
quietly  to  herself,  with  just  the  loveliest  color  in  her 
cheeks  and  such  a  far-off  look  in  her  eyes,  I  wondered 
what  she  could  be  thinking  of ;  and  she  sat  so  a  longtime, 
and  then  rose  and  kissed  me,  Paul,  and  went  away  with- 
out another  word.  [During  this  speech  PAUL  has  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands,  and  at  last  bows  it  upon  his  arms, 
so  as  to  hide  it  completely^  But  what's  the  matter,  dear  V 
Hold  your  head  up  and  look  at  me  !  What — tears  ? 
[Mrs.  WEIR  crosses  front  to  L.  of  PAUL,  puts  her  arms 
around  him,  and  kisses  him  on  the  forehead.']  My  darling 
boy,  what  is  the  matter  ? 

PAUL. 
I  feel  as  if  I  should  die,  mother — as  if  I  wished  to  die. 

MRS.  WEIR. 

You  have  done  nothing  wrong,  Paul,  I  am  certain — yet 
what  but  dishonor  could  rob  life  of  its  sweetness  to  one 
like  you  ? 

PAUL. 

My  honor  is  unstained,  mother  ;  but  life  is  a  burthen  to 
me. 

MRS.  WEIR. 

Why  should  it  be  ?  Trust  your  mother,  my  dear  boy  ! 
She  at  least  will  love  you,  sympathise  with  you  and  cling 
to  you  with  the  same  tenderness  with  which  she  first  saw 
your  baby  face  at  peace  upon  her  bosom.  Tell  me  all, 
Paul !  [Presses  his  head  to  her  breast,  and  kisses  him.'] 

PAUL. 

Mother,  I  have  nothing  to  tell  but  what  your  woman's 
heart  must  know  already. 

MRS.  WEIR. 
You  have  not  been  mad  enough  to  love  her,  Paul  ? 

PAUL,  (springing  to  his  feet.) 

If  that  be  madness,  I  have  been  mad  for  years — 
ever  since  I  first  went  to  the  Towers  as  manager  of  the 


ACT  II—SCENE  3.      SOLID   SILVER.  39 

estates,  when  she  used  to  come  to  me  as  a  child  to  help 
her  in  her  tasks.  Daily  observing  her  infinite  loveliness, 
how  could  I  help  it  ?  I  knew  all  the  time  how  it  would 
end — in  sorrow  and  despair.  [L.  H.] 

MRS.  WEIR. 
Paul !  Paul !     How  could  you  do  it  ? 

PAUL. 

Do  not  reproach  me.  I  knew  no  good  could  come  to 
me  from  it  this  side  the  grave,  as  well  as  you  do,  mother  ; 
but,  for  all  that,  I  could  not  help  it,  and  now  I  have  my 
punishment — the  pain  of  daily  death,  without  its  peace. 

MRS.  WEIR. 
Do  you  think  she  suspects  your  unhappy  passion  ? 

PAUL. 

She  cannot ;  difficult  as  restraint  has  been,  I  have  never 
betrayed  myself. 

MRS.  WEIR. 

Oh  !  Paul,  you  know  not  how  keen  a  woman's  eyes  are 
to  see  through  the  disguises  of  the  heart.  The  signs  of 
love,  like  those  of  its  absence,  are  discerned  by  her  in  the 
very  air  that  others  breathe  unconsciously,  as  the  skilled 
woodsman  foretells  the  storm,  or  presages  peace,  from  the 
sighing  of  the  winds  and  the  voiceless  speech  of  Mature. 
I  hope  she  does  not  know  it,  and  will  jiot ;  for  the  discov- 
ery would  exile  us  from  this  beloved  spot,  where  we  have 
lived  so  many  happy  years,  and  where  your  dear  father 
lies  awaiting  me.  Tell  me — [Mrs.  WEIR  falls  into  chair 
L.  of  table,  and  weeps.  PauseJ]  —  tell  me  you  will  over- 
come this  most  unhappy  delusion.  Do  not  permit  your 
life  to  be  withered,  and  your  mother's  peace  to  be 
destroyed  in  your  destruction.  You  have  so  much  besides 
her  to  live  for.  I  am  so  proud  of  you,  Paul ;  so  hopeful 
of  you  !  I  am  certain  you  will  yet  find  some  woman  as 
worthy  and  beautiful  as  she,  to  love  you  and  grace  your 
home,  fill  it  with  happy  little  voices,  and  hold  you  to  her 
by  all  the  ties  of  a  noble  wedlock. 


40  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  n— SCENE  3. 


PAUL. 

Silence  !  Oh,  silence,  mother  !  My  heart  will  break. 
[Music,  plaintive.  PAUL  goes  to  his  mother,  falls  on  his 
knees  and  buries  his  head  in  her  lap  ;  she  bends  over  him. 
caressingly  J] 


IN.: 


ACT     TH I  ED. 


SCENE  I.  —  Dancing  pavilion.  Curtain  rises  to  Lancers' 
music.  Discover  company  commencing  the  dance. 
Floor  covered  for  dancing.  Three  arches  boxed 
on  the  sides  with  arches.  Garlands,  lanterns, 
birds,  festooned  all  over  scene,  and  from  borders. 
Statuary  and  pedestals*  Balcony  at  back,  with  steps. 
Small  tete-a-tete  sofa  L.  H.  Calcium  on  balcony. 

In  front  set  are  KATE — SPONGE,  Jr.,  Earl  DE  LA  LANDE — Lady 
EMILY,  Countess — BARCLAY,  MORRIS — BERTHA.  Other 
sets  ad  libitum.  They  dance  last  figure  of  Lancers,  and 
finish  with  waltz.  As  soon  as  waltz  is  over,  commence 
horn  solo  outside.  All  form  in  picturesque  groups, 
listening.  When  EMILY  commences  to  speak,  they  com- 
mence to  promenade. 

LADY  EMILY,  (after  a  long  pause.} 
What  delicious  music  !  hear  it  ? 

BARCLAY. 

Eh  ?     Beg  pardon  ! 

EMILY. 

The  music  —  don't  you  hear  it  ? 

BARCLAY. 

Oh  !  that's  the  band  from  London,  playing  by  the  lake. 

EARL. 

Miss  Bertha,  if  you  do  not  object,  we  will  adjourn  to 
the  moonlight  and  the  music.     Will  you  come  ? 

KATE. 

Of   course    she  will.     Her    cavalier    looks    romantic 
F 


42  SOLID   SILVER,      ACT  in— SCENE  1. 

enough  for  any  amount  of  moonshine.     Quite  the  bandit, 
I  declare  ! 

BERTHA. 

Certainly.     Come,  Captain,  your  arm. 
MORRIS,   (aside.} 

I  shall  have  no  better  opportunity  than  the  present,  and 
there's  no  time  to  lose.  I'll  play  my  last  card  !  Wait  a 
moment,  cousin. 

[SPONGE,  Jr.,  offers  his  arm  to  KATE,  who  stands  R.  H.  Earl 
quietly  interposes  and  takes  her  off.  KATE  laughs. 
SPONGE  appears  crestfallen,  and  goes  off  dejectedly. 
Ladies  and  gentlemen  promenade  at  back  at  intervals. 
Business  to  be  arranged  so  that  the  balcony  in  back  of 
the  stage  will  be  filled  without  interfering  with  the  front 
of  the  scene.  All  must  be  kept  very  qmet.~\ 

MORRIS,    L. 

This  is  a  lovely  scene,  and  should  inspire  the  happiest 
emotions.  Yet  I  am  wretched  —  and  you  are  the  cause. 

BERTHA,    C. 

I,  Gerard  ?  I  have  done  all  in  my  power  to  make  you 
at  home,  since  you  arrived.  You  have  been  quite  master 
of  the  house.  Indeed,  when  you  take  your  departure,  I 
shall  feel  almost  an  intruder  when  I  venture  to  command 
my  own  servants. 

MORRIS. 

My  presumption  has  not  been  without  an  object.  You 
know  the  wishes  of  your  father,  as  expressed  in  his  will, 
and 

BERTHA. 

You  need  not  rehearse  them,  sir.  That  he  desired  I 
should  marry  you  for  your  mother's  sake,  whom  he  fondly 
loved,  is  true.  But  that  wish  was  coupled  with  another  : 
that  I  should  be  myself  the  sole  judge  of  your  capacity  to 
make  me  happy  ;  that  I  should  exercise  prudence  in 
my  choice,  if  I  were  called  on  to  make  it ;  and  I  shall 
faithfully  try  to  do  so. 


ACT  in— SCENE  1.     SOLID  SILVER.  43 

MORRIS. 

And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  very  prudent  judgment 
of  yours  is  against  me  ? 

BERTHA. 

I  do  not  say  so — now.  Do  not  press  me  for  a  decision. 
This  is  no  time  for  it.  Speak  of  something  else,  or  I 
shall  he  forced  to  leave  you. 

MORRIS. 

It  was  your  father's  chief  pleasure  to  give  your  hand  to 
me,  and  call  us  son  and  daughter.  And  though  his  over- 
weening sense  of  obligation  to  you  made  you  his  sole 
heir,  and  gave  me  only  a  pitiful  annuity,  he  yet  expected 
—  nay,  commanded  —  that  I  should  share  his  wealth  with 
you.  Dare  you  deny  it '! 

BERTHA,   (tenderly.) 

Think  you,  Gerard,  I  have  forgotten  one  word  my 
darling  father  ever  spoke  to  me  ?  I  do  remember  all.  I 
call  to  mind,  besides,  what  you  were  then — a  noble  boy, 
brave,  generous,  clear-eyed,  truthful !  Even  now  I  thrill 
to  recollect  the  childish  dreams  I  had  of  distant  happy 
years,  bound  close  to  yours,  I  knew  not  how.  After  my 
father  died  you  grew  to  manhood.  You  went  into  the 
world,  and  I  remained,  an  orphan  girl,  at  home.  I  am  a 
woman  grown,  but  still  in  much  a  child.  I  know  but 
little  of  your  life,  save,  save — rumors  which  have  come  to 
me  of  reckless  dissipation,  a  gamester's  ruin  and  grosser 
sins  which  so  affright  me  that  I  dare  not  speak,  and  will 
not  think,  of  them. 

MORRIS. 

And  you  believe  them  true,  of  course,  and  so  condemn 
me ! 

BERTHA. 

Dare  I  believe  them  false  when  I  can  read  the  bitter 
confirmation  in  your  haggard  face  and  weary  eyes  ?  Can 
I  believe  in  you  and  lay  my  trusting  hands  in  yours,  or 
hope  to  call  you  husband,  when  even  my  untutored  sight 
commands  me  to  beware  ?  I  will  beware  !  I  do  not 
judge  you  now :  and  do  not  force  me  to  decide,  by  impor- 
tuning me. 


44  SOLID   SILVER.     ACT  in— SCENE  1. 

MORRIS,  (seizing  her  hand.) 

You  cannot  go  till  you  have  answered  me.  You  shall 
trifle  with  me  no  longer. 

BERTHA,  (with  dignity). 

[Taking  away  her  hand.']  Your  violence  does  not  sur- 
prise me,  sir.  You  havenad  free  scope  here  since  I  have 
had  control  of  my  property.  For  two  years  you  have  in- 
variably insulted  my  friends,  have  been  unnecessarily 
harsh  to  your  inferiors  and  assumed  to  rule  all  my  house- 
hold. With  the  fullest  liberty  to  invite  your  friends  to 
the  Towers,  you  have  only  introduced  men  such  as  those 
who  are  now  here  as  your  guests,  and  of  whose  claims  on 
you  I  am  too  well  informed.  Are  they  your  friends  or 
your  masters  ?  [MORRIS  angrily  seizes  her  wrist.  Young 
SPONGE  enters  at  back,  observing  what  is  going  on  in  front  of 
stage.']  Ah,  you  hurt  me  !  Let  go  my  arm,  sir,  or  I  will 
call  for  help  !  Do  you  not  see  you  are  attracting  attention  ? 
[Crosses  L.  H.] 

MORRIS. 

Who  cares  for  attention  ?     is"ot  I.     I  tell  you  now 

[Stops  and  glares  at  SPONGE,  Jr.,  who  has  been  for  some 
moments  looking  in  the  door,  and  now  enters  and  goes  round 
as  if  he  had  lost  something.  BERTHA  retires  up  a  little  L.  H., 
looks  off  the  archway  down  R.  H.] 

SPONGE,  JR, 

Where's  my  'at  ?  I  can't  find  the  blasted  thing  any- 
where, and  the  governor  wants  me  to  look  round  after 
the  captain  and  see  that  he  don't  give  us  the  slip.  And  I 
have  got  a  cold  in  my  'ed  now.  Atchee  !  Atchee  ! 
Where's  my  'at  ?  Ah  !  I  say,  Captain,  I've  a  message 
for  you  and  something  to  say  to  you  on  my  own  account 
besides. 

MORRIS. 

Let  it  wait,  then. 

SPONGE,  JR.,  (taking  him  to  one  side.) 
It  won't  wait,  then.     Colonel  Delaire  is  here,  and  the 
governor  is  just  going  to  ask  him  what  provision  he  pro- 
poses to  make  for  those  overdue  acceptances  of  his  which 
we  hold  from  you. 


ACT  m— SCENE  1.      SOLID   SILYEE.  45 

MORRIS. 

Hush  !     Perdition  !     Where  is  your  father  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

In  the  balcony — with  the  rest  of  the  aristocracy. 
He  is  game  to-night.  Go  and  call  him  "  Sir  John,"  and 
I'm  blessed  if  I  don't  think  he'd  give  you  up  your  notes 
and  execute  a  release  of  all  demands  !  He's  talking  to 
one  of  the  dowagers  now  about  "moonlight  effects." 
Ha!  Ha!  He  says  they're  "gorgeous!"  Lucky  the 
moon  don't  owe  him  anything.  He'd  sell  her  effects  on 
execution  and  leave  lovers  in  the  dark  forever. 

MORRIS. 

Bertha,  I  leave  you  for  a  moment,  but  shall  return,  and 
you  must  answer  me  !  [BERTHA,  who  has  seated  (L.  c.) 
herself  while  the  conversation  is  going  on,  merely  looks  at 
MORRIS  with  silent  disdain.  Exit  MORRIS  at  balcony  R.  c. 
in  the  greatest  haste.~\ 

SPONGE  JR.,  (c.,  running  to  BERTHA.) 
Hope  I've  caused  no  inconvenience. 

BERTHA,   (L.  H.) 

Not  the  slightest,  Mr.  Sponge,  believe  me. 

SPONGE,  JR. 
I  thought  as  much.     How  do  you  like  me  as  an  author  ? 

BERTHA. 

You  an  author  ? 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Yes,  I  composed  that  little  romance  which  set  the  cap- 
tain on  his  travels. 

BERTHA,  (rising.] 
Why,  Mr.  Sponge,  did  you  tell  him  a — story  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Yes,  and  it  answered  as  well  as  the  truth,  did  n't  it  ? 
Most  lies  do,  for  that  matter,  you  know.  They  help  bus- 
iness wonderfully,  and,  as  for  society,  it  couldn't  exist 
without  them. 


46  SOLID   SILVER.     ACT  in— SCENE  1. 

BERTHA. 

Mr.  Sponge,  you  shock  me  ! 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  can't  help  it.  It's  the  fault  of  my  education.  I've 
heard  my  governor  say  a  thousand  times  that  lies  were 
like  iron,  without  them  we'd  all  go  back  to  the  simplicity 
of  barbarism. 

BERTHA. 

You  have  been  educated  in  a  strange  school  of  morals, 
Mr.  Sponge. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  never  was  at  a  school  of  morals.  I  was  brought  up 
to  business.  My  governor  taught  me  to  calculate  interest 
when  I  was  six  years  old,  and  I've  been  at  it  ever  since. 
\_Going  and  returning.']  For  all  that  I'm  human  ;  and 
upon  what  word  and  honor  I've  got,  I  can't  abide  to  see 
Morris  even  trying  to  win  a  woman  like  you.  My 
governor's  loans  depend  on  your  death  or  marriage  with 
the  captain  ;  but  I'd  rather  lose  the  last  penny  than  have 
them  paid  by  either  event.  Don't  mind  us,  and — don't 
you  marry  the  captain  !  [  Going  and  returning. ~\  If  he 
bothers  you  any  more,  just  sweetly  ask  him  where  he 
learned  to  write,  and  if  he  don't  run  at  that,  enquire  how 
he  spells  your  uncle  Delaire's  name.  [J^'c/e.]  There  now  ! 
Up  goes  my  half  of  fifteen  thousand,  but  I've  freed  my 
mind. 

BERTHA. 

I  know  not  how  to  understand  your  remarkable  confi- 
dence, but  I  thank  you  for  it. 

SPONGE,  JR. 
It 's  expensive,  but — you're  welcome  ! 

BERTHA. 

I  shall  not  need  your  talisman  to  guard  me  against  an- 
noyance. I  can  protect  myself;  and  while  I  expect  to 
live  as  long  as  God  pleases,  I  hope  during  the  life  he 
vouchsafes  me  to  marry  when,  where  and  whom  I  please. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

That's  well  said,    Now,  if  you  really  are  obliged  to  me, 


ACT  in—  SCENE  1.      SOLID   SILVER.  47 

you  will  do  me  a  favor.     I  suppose  I'm  too  late,  but  I'd  be 
ivo  happy  if  you'd  dance  with  me  once. 

BERTHA. 

Certainly,  Mr.  Sponge.     There   are   my  tablets  ;  take 
anything  that's  left.     [Hands  him  her  card  of  dances,  with 
attached  b$  a  hatnl-^mn'  ribbon.'] 


SPONGE,  JR. 

Let's  see.  \Eeads.~]  "Lancers,  Captain  Morris." 
"  (  Juadrille,  Mr.  Barclay."  "  Schottische,  Captain  Morris." 
"  Polka  Redowa,  Captain  Morris."  Hum  !  There's 
nothing  mean  about  him,  is  there  ?  "  Quadrille,  Earl 
Lande."  "  Lancers,  Captain  Morris  !  !"  Let  me  take  this 
card  among  the  gentlemen,  and  we  will  organize  an 
American  Lynching  party  and  rid  the  ball  of  him  if  you'll 
divide  the  dances  fairly  between  us.  He's  a  perfect 
glutton,  here  as  everywhere,  by  Jove  ! 

BERTHA. 

Never  mind  him,  Mr.  Sponge.     Take  any  one  you  fancy. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I'll  take  this  Lancers  from  him,  and  if  he  don't  like  it, 
I'll  dance  a  polka  with  him,  myself,  and  make  it  lively  for 
him,  too  ! 

BERTHA. 

Give  me  my  tablets.  [Takes  and  puts  them  in  her 
belt.~\  And  now  -  [SPONGE  thinks  BERTHA  wants  him 
to  promenade  with  her.  He  is  about  to  offer  his  arm, 
when  enter  PAUL  WEIR,  who,  seeing  Miss  HUNTINGDON, 
attempts  to«retire.~]  Oh  !  Mr.  Weir,  come  here  ;  give 
me  your  arm  to  the  balcony.  Mr.  Sponge,  it  may 
comfort  you  to  know  that  your  investment  was  never 
less  secure  than  at  present.  [SPONGE  goes  up  stage,  stops, 
walks  back,  says  "Ah  !"  Meets  a  little  girl,  offers  his  arm  to 
her  and  takes  her  off.~\ 

PAUL,  (offering  his  arm  to  BERTHA.) 

I  comply  with  your  wish,  but  pray  do  not  require  me 
to  - 


48  SOLID  SILVER.      ACT  in— SCENE  1. 

[  Voice  in  the  balcony,  sings.'] 

[BERTHA  and  PAUL  form  picture  during  song.  BERTHA 
picks  her  bouquet  to  pieces.  PAUL  takes  a  bud  and  fastens 
it  to  his  coat."] 

Sweet !  good  night.  I  now  must  leave  thee, 

But  I  know  not  how  to  part : 
Every  tender  thought,  believe  me, 

Is  of  thee  with  all  my  heart  ! 

[Captain  MORRIS  enters  on  balcony,  stands  in  strong  moon- 
light, and  watches  BERTHA  and  PAUL.] 

May  thy  slumbers  be  refreshing 

And  thy  dreams  be  ever  bright. 
Hence,  and  with  thee  take  my  blessing, 

This  fond  kiss,  and  then  good  night  ! 

Yet,  Oh  !  yet,  a  moment  longer  ! 

I  have  something  more  to  say  : 
Love  at  parting  seems  the  stronger, 

But  I  would  not  bid  thee  stay. 

Sweet !  I  know  not  why  I  press  thee 

Longer  with  me  to  remain, 
Else  it  be  once  more  to  bless  thee, 

And  to  say  "  Good  night,"  again. 

\_At  end  of  song,  MORRIS  advances  c.,  and  with  left  arm' 
rudely  pushes  PAUL  back  L.  H.  PAUL  seizes  him  by  the 
collar  with  his  R.  hand,  and  throws  MORRIS  to  L.,  and  is 
about  to  strike  him  with  his  L.  hand  when  BERTHA  seizes  it. 
Picture.'] 

BERTHA. 

For  my  sake,  Paul ;  Mr.  Weir,  forbear.  [PAUL  bows 
low,  retires  and  exit  R.  3  E.  Captain  MORRIS  follows  PAUL, 
crosses  and  looks  after  him,  and  then  moves  to  R.  c.] 

MORRIS. 

Have  you  no  better  occupation  than  flirting'with  a  low- 
bred fellow  like  that — a  servant,  or  little  better  ?  It  is 
disgraceful ! 

BERTHA,  (L.  c.) 

Captain  Morris,  how  dare  you  address  such  language  to 
me  ?  Mr.  Weir  is  a  gentleman  and  worthy  to  be  the 
escort  of  any  lady  in  the  land.  I  have  endured  too  much 
already.  To-morrow,  sir,  you  will  leave  my  house.  [  Takes 
stage  L.  H.] 


ACT  in— SCENE  1.     SOLID   SILVER.  49 

MORRIS. 

I  have  hit  the  target  at  last,  have  I  ?  Yes — I  will  go  ; 
and  leave  you  to  the  delicate  attentions  of  this  pensioner 
on  jour  bounty,  and  him  to  your  smiles  and, — I  know  not 
what  besides. 

BERTHA,  (going  dose  to  him.) 

If  I  were  armed,  I  think  I  would  kill  you.  As  it  is,  I 
am  without  a  weapon  and  only  a  woman,  so  I  bid  you, — go  ! 
[Pointing  to  the  door,  out  of  -which  MORRIS  goes  without  a 
triti'd.  BERTHA  throws  herself  into  a  chair,  L.  H.,  and  weepsJ] 

Enter  KATE,  R.  c.,  meets  MORRIS  going,  stops  him,  looks  at 
him  with  disguised  contempt,  and  then  comes  down  stage 
to  BERTHA. 

KATE. 

Why,  Bertha,  darling,  what's  the  matter  ? 

BERTHA. 

I  am  ashamed  of  myself  for  crying,  Kate  ;  but  really  I 
cannot  help  it.  Gerard  has  insulted  me  so  cruelly.  [  Cries.'] 
Once  that  wicked  little  Sponge  got  him  away  by  the 
queerest  story  about  your  father  and  some  dishonored 
notes,  and  afterwards  told  me  the  whole  tale  was  a  fiction 
of  his  own  to  relieve  me  ! 

KATE. 

But  how  did  he  impose  on  the  Captain  ?  There  must 
have  been  some  truth  to  carry  him  off  his  balance.  I'll 
ask  papa  if  ever  he  endorsed  or  accepted  for  Gerard.  I 
don't  think  he  did,  for  he  detests  him,  and  won't  come 
here  while  Gerard  remains  your  guest. 

BERTHA. 

That  won't  be  long,  for  he  goes  to-morrow.    I  told  him 

KATE. 

Oh,  you  darling,  did  you  ?  [Kisses  her  rapturously.']  I 
don't  think  Mr.  Weir  will  regret  him. 

BERTHA. 

I  told  him  to  go  because  he  spoke  of  Mr.  Weir  and 
myself  so  outrageously.     Kate,  I  could  have  killed  him  ; 
G 


50  SOLID   SILVER.     ACT  in— SCENE  1. 

and  I  am  sure  Mr.  Weir  would  have  knocked  him  down, 
but  for  my  entreaty  to  forbear. 

KATE. 

I  wish  you  hadn't  said  a  word  ;  but  women  never  can 
hold  their  tongues,  con bless  them  1 

BERTHA. 

I  am  so  sorry  for  Mr.  Weir.  I  wish  I  could  see  him 
and  tell  Lim  so. 

KATE. 

I  just  saw  him  pass  the  door.  I'll  call  him.  [Runs  to 
door  and  calls.']  Mr.  Weir!  Here  he  comes.  I  don't 
care  to  hear  your  explanation  ;  but  don't  ask  him  for 
heliotrope,  dear  —  that's  my  prerogative. 

[Exit  KATE,  and  enter  PAUL,  R.  arch  in  boxing. 

PAUL. 

I  did  not  know  you  were  here,  Miss  Huntingdon,  or  I 
should  not  have  intruded.  I  thought  Miss  Delaire  called 
me. 

BERTHA. 

I  do  not  wonder  you  are  reluctant  to  enter  my  presence. 
Of  late,  it  has  only  been  the  prelude  to  insult.  But  pray 
be  seated. 

PAUL. 

Thank  you  ;  I  prefer  to  stand. 

BERTHA. 

I  wished  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Weir,  that  no  one  regrets  the 
many  annoyances  to  which  your  position  has  subjected 

you  as  much  as  I 

PAUL. 

Do  not  distress  yourself  by  thinking  of  them  ;  they 
will  soon  end,  I  trust  forever. 

BERTHA. 

What  do  you  mean  ?   You  surely  are  not  intending 

PAUL. 
I  have  determined  to  seek  employment  elsewhere. 


ACT  in— SCENE  1.     SOLID   SILVER.  51 

BERTHA. 

Will  you  really  leave  us  —  I  mean  your  mother,  Mr. 
Weir  V  She  cannot  live  without  you  ;  and  if  she  could, 
you  ought  not  to  make  her  desolate. 

PAUL. 
I  shall  take  her  with  me  wherever  I  go. 

BERTHA. 

Is  that  right  ?  She  has  lived  in  her  present  home  for 
many  years  ;  your  dear  father  died  there.  2s"o  one  knows 
better  than  you,  who  have  so  often  stood  with  her  beside 
his  grave,  the  consolations  of  her  widowhood.  She  will 
not  long  survive  the  change.  Old  scenes,  old  habits  and 
affections  are  the  life  of  Age,  and,  robbed  of  them,  it  soon 
must  droop  and  die.  Have  you  thought  of  this  ? 

PAUL,    (C.) 

I  have  thought  of  all  this  ? 

BERTHA. 

Is  my  father's  memory  nothing  to  you  ?  I  remember 
as  a  child  how  fond  he  was  of  you.  You  came  to  the 
Towers  because  he  wished  it.  You  have  been  the  guar- 
dian of  his  estate.  What  will  it  do  without  you  ?  Can 
you  abandon  your  charge  to  others,  and  leave  your  half- 
completed  plans  to  ruin,  because  these  ill-bred  people 
have  been  rude  to  you  ? 

PAUL. 

I  cannot  remain  without  the  loss  of  self-respect ;  and, 
losing  that,  I  should  be  valueless.  There  are  many  men 
to  be  had  who  can  do  more  than  I  have  done,  but  with 
no  stronger  devotion  to  your  interests,  believe  me.  I  will 
help  you  to  select  my  successor  ;  but  I  must  go  as  far  from 
here  as  steam  or  sail  can  carry  me. 

BERTHA. 

Where  will  you  go  ? 

PAUL. 

To  the  ^N"ew  World,  where  manhood  is  the  test  of  sta- 
tion, and  honest  deeds  outweigh  the  pride  of  long 
descent. 


52  SOLID   SILVER,     ACT  in— SCENE  1. 

BERTHA. 

Have  I  deserved  this  of  you,  Mr.  Weir  ?  What  have 
I  done,  that  you  should  treat  me  so  ?  [  Weeps. ~] 

PAUL. 

You  have  done  much  ;  but  naught  for  which  I  censure 
you.  You  are  no  more  to  blame  than  the  flower  for  its 
fragrance  and  beauty.  God  made  you  both,  and  I  alone 
am  responsible  for  my  own  misery.  You  have  been  all 
goodness  and  gentleness.  From  your  earliest  childhood, 
your  smile  has  been  my  heaven,  and  I  have  learned, 
unwillingly,  to  love  you  with  all  the  strength  of  a 
man's  honest  devotion,  and  with  a  passion  that  con- 
sumes me.  You  need  not  tell  me  how  hopeless  it  is.  I 
know  you  could  not  think  of  me  except  with  the  same 
charity  that  takes  into  its  fold  all  those  around  you,  nor 
would  I  ask  you  to  do  otherwise.  I  only  tell  you  of  my 
love  so  you  may  know,  when  I  am  gone,  that  I  have  not 
been  ungrateful,  nor  a  deserter  from  any  obligations  I 
owed  you.  Good  bye  !  God  bless  you  ! 

[PAUL  goes  from  the  room  R.  H.;  as  he  disappears  she 
starts  up,  extends  her  arms  towards  the  door.~\ 

BERTHA. 

Paul,  Paul !  My  heart  will  break !  [Falls  weeping 
into  her  chair. ~\ 

Enter  KATE,  BARCLAY  and  Lady  EMILY  ;   BARCLAY  and 
Lady  EMILY  remain  up  stage. 

KATE,  (coming  forward  alone.] 

Here's  a  nice  child  for  a  birth-day  party.  Tears  to  be- 
gin the  year  with,  indeed,  and  all  for  a  nasty  man  !  I'd 
like  to  see  the  one  that  could  make  me  cry.  Bertha,  dear, 
come  !  Every  one  is  asking  for  you,  and  the  Earl  has 
proposed  such  a  strange  thing  to  please  the  children,  and 
they  are  all  coming  here  to  do  it.  Quick,  dear,  dry  your 
eyes  !  That  horrid  Gerard  has  taken  himself  out  of  the 
way,  and  don't  let  anybody  think  you're  crying  for  him. 

BERTHA. 

You're  right,  Kate,  I'll  cry  no  more.     \_Crosses  right  and 


ACT  in— SCENE  1.     SOLID  SILVER.  53 

goes  to  meet  Lady  EMILY  and  BARCLAY.]  What,  have  you 
so  soon  tired  of  dancing  ?  I  thought  with  such  music  you 
would  keep  your  feet  flying  till  midnight. 

BARCLAY. 

The  night  is  rather  warm  for  dancing,  you  know,  and 
most  of  the  people  seem  to  prefer  going  to  the  lake  to 
hear  the  music  and  see  the  moonlight  on  the  water.  So 
the  children  have  persuaded  the  Earl  to  propose  some 
old  fashioned  game  or  other,  and  he  has  promised  to  do 
so.  [All  enter ;  SPONGE,  Jr.  with  two  small  children  hang- 
ing on  his  arms.~\  But  here  they  all  come,  and  he  will 
explain,  himself. 

EARL. 

Come,  Miss  Bertha,  Kate,  all  of  you,  we  have  a  change 
in  the  programme.  The  children  who  don't  dance  have 
persuaded  the  children  who  do  to  play  just  one  game  of 
hide-and-seek,  and  I  am  elected  Ringleader,  for  in  truth, 
I'd  like  a  run  through  these  old  corridors.  I  have  not 
seen  them  since  your  father  and  I  were  boys.  We  have 
recruited  all  this  gallant  army,  and  every  one  is  eager  for 
the  fray. — Are  you  not  ? 

ALL. 
Yes  !  Oh  yes  !     Begin,  begin. 

LADY    EMILY. 

Before  you  convert  Bertha's  soiree  dansante  into  a  child's 
party  you  had  better  ask  her  permission. 

COUNTESS. 
Bertha,  what  do  you  say  ? 

BERTHA. 

I  shall  enjoy  it  extremely.  In  fact,  I'm  the  most  child- 
ish of  the  party.  I  cry  like  one,  anyhow. 

KATE. 

Except  myself,  dear.  But  we're  losing  time.  Hurry, 
or  the  romantic  ones  will  return  from  the  lake,  and  we 
shall  be  forced  to  dance  again. 


54  SOLID   SILVER.     ACT  in—  SCENE  2. 

EARL. 

Come,  then,  begin.     I  give  you  big  children  one  minute 
to  hide  —  little  ones  may  have  two.     [Music,  P.  P.    Little 
binds  handkerchief  over  Earl's  eyes.~\ 


CHILD. 
How  many  horses  in  your  father's  stable  ? 

EARL. 
Three  —  white,  black  and  gray. 

CHILD. 

Turn  round  three  times  and  catch  whom  you  may. 
[They  all  scamper,  talking  in  a,  noisy  lively  manner.  Music 
till  on  in  next  scene.  SPONGE,  Jr.  follows  KATE  off  R.  1  E.] 


SCENE  II. —  Corridor  in  Huntingdon  Towers — same  as  in 
Act  II,  Scene  II.  KATE  enters  R.  1  E.,  goes  hastily 
to  L.  1  E.  to  hide.  SPONGE,  Jr.  is  immediately  behind 
her.  She  turns  away  annoyed,  goes  to  R.  H.,  same 
business. 

SPONGE,  JR. 
I  don't  think  that's  a  good  place  to  hide,  myself. 

KATE. 

Don't  plague  me  so.  I've  heard  nonsense  enough.  Go 
hide  yourself  and  let  me  alone.  [  Crosses  L.  H.] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

It  is  not  nonsense,  and  I  don't  want  to  hide  myself  or 
anything  else — from  you  !  Miss  Kate,  if  you  refuse  to 
hear  me,  I'll  do  something  desperate. 

KATE. 

What  a  nuisance  you  are  !  Speak,  but  do  condense 
yourself. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

"Well,  consider  me  condensed.  Miss  Kate,  I  came  down 
here  with  no  thought  but  money,  I'm  afraid.  You  have 


ACT  in— SCENE  2.     SOLID   SILVER.  55 

created  around  me  an  atmosphere  full  of  happiness  and 
beauty  in  which  I  must  live,  if  at  all.  I  have  wakened 
from  a  horrid  dream  of  selfishness  to  learn,  through  you, 
that  life  is  more  than  an  opportunity  to  grasp  wealth  and 
increase  it.  I  beg  you  to  teach  me  a  better  life. 

KATE. 
His  teacher ! 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Be  my — my — wife,  then.  That's  what  I  mean,  anyhow. 
Miss  Kate,  I  would  die  to  please  you. 

KATE. 

You  had  better  live  to  please  yourself.  I  should  expire 
at  the  thought  of  undertaking  your  reformation.  I  am  no 
missionary  for  young  heathen,  and  if  I  were,  your  case 
would  be  hopeless.  And  then,  I  have  no  heart  to  give  a 
lover.  And  then — and  then — Oh  !  there  are  a  thousand 
reasons  more — don't  bother  me  ! 

SPONGE,  JR. 

There's  a  somebody  else  hid  in  them,  I  suppose  ? 

KATE. 

i$"o,  sir  !  I  never  yet  saw  a  man  fit  to  be  loved  ;  and  I 
can't  waste  time  trying  to  discover  him.  It  is  impossible 
for  me  to  love  anybody.  [cjoingJ]  Good  bye  ! 

SPONGE,  JR. 
Miss  Kate  ! 

KATE. 

Well? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

If  you  never  tried,  how  do  you  know  ?  I  used  to  think 
so  myself,  but  Lord  !  how  easy  it  is  when  you  give  your 
mind  to  it.  Just  make  the  effort. 

KATE. 

I  can't  and  I  won't.  There  's  your  answer  and — good 
bye.  [going.] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Miss  Kate  ! 

KATE. 

Well? 


56  SOLID   SILVER.     ACT  in— SCENE  2. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Don't  be  precipitate.  I'll  give  you  thirty  days  to  con- 
sider —  renewable  at  sixty  more  —  and  then  accept  me  at 
as  many  days'  'sight  as  you  like. 

KATE. 

I  don't  want  thirty  seconds,  nor  any  more  sights  at  you 
than  I  have  had  already.  When  I  fall  in  love,  it  will  be 
at  first  sight.  No  ;  -I  am  resolved.  [  Very  decidedly. ,] 

SPONGE,  JR. 
So  am  I. 

KATE. 

On  what,  pray  ? 

SPONGE,    JR. 

On  marrying  you  ;  make  up  your  mind  to  that. 

KATE,  (ironically.} 

I  pray  you  for  a  moderate  respite,  my  lord,  between 
your  judgment  and  its  execution. 

SPONGE,  JR. 
Respite,  certainly  ;  reprieve,  never  ! 

KATE. 

How  considerate  !  I  feared  you  were  about  to  put  on 
the  black  cap  and  pronounce  sentence  at  once.  I  like 
your  way  of  wooing  ;  I  do,  indeed. 


Well !  I  told  you  you'd  like  it  better  the  more  you 
tried  it.  It  grows,  Miss  Kate,  like — well,  like — compound 
interest. 

KATE. 

If  this  be  love-making,  Heaven  send  me  no  more  of  it. 
I  have  talked  till  I'm  weary,  so  good-bye  now,  for  good. 
I'm  losing  all  the  fun,  and  if  you  don't  care  yourself,  don't 
deprive  me  of  it.  Good-bye,  I  say,  sir.  \_Going.~] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Good-bye,  then.  You  needn't  fear.  I'll  not  announce 
our  engagement  till  you  are  willing. 


ACT  in— SCENE  2.     SOLID   SILVER.  57 

KATE,  (returning.) 

Our  what,  sir  ?  Who's  engaged  to  you  ?  Are  you  deaf 
and  blind  too  ?  You  heard  me  say  I  couldn't  and  I 
wouldn't. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

That  was  some  time  since.  You've  had  lots  of  time  to 
change  your  mind  ;  and,  being  a  woman,  you've  done  it, 
of  course. 

KATE. 

Yes,  change  my  mind  as  you  would  change  a  sovereign, 
Mr.  Moneybags. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Change  it  for  ha'pence,  and  give  me  one.  I'll  lay  it 
out  at  love's  usurious  interest,  and  win  the  whole  of  it 
before  I've  done  with  you. 

KATE. 

It  will  only  be  a  change  from  bad  to  worse,  like  this 
bright  evening  turning  into  storm.  [A  peal  of  thunder.'] 

SPONGE,  JR. 
Oh,  thunder ! 

KATE. 

You'll  make  me  strike  you.     \_AJiash  of  lightning. ~\ 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Well,  hit,  but  hear  me  !  I'd  rather  you'd  strike  me 
than  the  lightning. 

KATE. 
I  hate  you,  sir. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

You  think  you  do,  but  you  don't. 

KATE. 

I'll  tell  my  father. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Certainly!  it's  but  right  the  old  gentleman  should 
know.  I'll  speak  to  him  myself,  as  soon  as  I  see  him, 
and  ask  his  consent. 

KATE. 

You  speak  to  him  if  you  dare  ! 
H 


58  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  in— SCENE  3. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

That  settles  it.  I  never  took  a  dare  in  my  life.  Your 
fate  is  sealed. 

KATE. 

Mr.  Sponge,  please  don't  tease  me  so.  I  don't  really 
hate  you,  but  I  can't  love  you  ;  and  besides 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I'll  say  no  more.  Give  me  your  hand.  [  Takes  it. 
KATE  offers  no  resistance.']  If  I  can  not  be  your  lover,  I'll 
be  your  faithful  friend.  The  world  is  full  of  changes, 
Miss  Kate,  and  when  they  come  to  you,  be  the  time  ever 
so  remote,  you  will  find  me  still  your  servant,  contented 
as  a  dog  to  obey  and  protect  you. 

KATE. 
And  no  more  love  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

~No  more  till  you  awaken  it. 

KATE. 

Come,  then,  my  canine  friend !  I'll  call  you  Fido,  and 
make  you  a  velvet  collar,  [going.']  Come  along  for  your 
velvet  collar ! 

SPONGE,  JR.  (follows.} 

I  swear  it  shall  be  of  your  velvet  arms  ! 

[Exeunt. 


SCENE  III.  —  Stage  dark.  Room  in  Huntingdon  Towers, 
finished  with  panelled  walls,  ivainscoting,  etc.  Old 
pictures  of  knights  and  men-at-arms,  etc.,  on  walls. 
High  mantelpiece  R.  center,  with  deep  fire-place,  appa- 
rently built  of  brick-work.  All  to  show  an  ancient, 
disused  apartment.  Large  window,  c.,  showing  mov- 
ing clouds,  with  lightning  effects.  Wind  —  shutters 
rattling.  Flashes  of  lightning,  and  low,  rumbling 
thunder,  with  an  occasional  crash.  Stands  of  armor 


ACT  in— SCENE  3.     SOLID   SILVER.  59 

about  stage.  Shields  and  arms  grouped.  Music  of 
"  Mistletoe  Bough  "  played  on  tremolo  pipes  till  BER- 
THA hides.  Doors  at  right  and  left. 

Enter  BERTHA  ;  sits  down,  out  of  breath. 

BERTHA. 

What  a  race  I've  had  ;  and  not  caught  yet !  There  are 
so  many  horrid  stories  of  this  part  of  the  house,  that  I  have 
been  afraid  to  come  into  it.  But  dear  old  Busby  has  lit  it 
up  so  brightly,  I  thought  I'd  venture  in  among  you,  my 
lords.  [_L')o/r /"/>//  a.t  portraits.']  I'd  like  some  of  you  to  show 
me  those  old  trap-doors  papa  told  me  you  built  in  the 
olden  time.  I  don't  ask  you  to  tell  me  the  naughty  pur- 
poses you  used  them  for ;  oh,  no  !  you  shall  keep  the 
dreadful  secrets  to  yourselves,  my  dear  ancestors  !  [Cart- 
sry.v.]  Hark !  They  have  actually  tracked  me  here  ; 
where  shall  I  go  ?  [Runs  to  door,  L.  H.  2  E.,  unlocks  it, 
looks  out,  and  returns. ,]  Ugh  !  that  place  is  as  dark  as  a 
pocket,  and  I  hate  the  dark.  Sunshine  for  me,  rather  than 
shadow,  any  day.  I  haven't  had  much  of  it  on  this  one, 
have  I  ?  How  fierce  and  wild  the  night  has  grown  !  But 
it  shall  pass  away  before  the  daylight  comes  —  sweet, 
golden  hours,  that  bring  me  happiness  and  rest,  and  him 
the  knowledge  of  my  hoarded  love.  My  poor  Paul !  how 
little  you  know  a  woman's  heart !  To-morrow  I  will  show 
you  one.  Here  they  come  !  [Noise  ivithout.~\  I'll  squeeze 
myself  into  the  recesses  of  this  huge  chimney,  and  perhaps 
avoid  discovery  ;  and  when  they're  gone,  I'll  leave  this 
shivering  atmosphere.  [Gets  close  into  the  corner  of  the 
chimney  ;  the  back  suddenly  turns  and  shuts  her  in,  and  she 
disappears  with  a  scream  (pause).  More  noise,  and  enter 
all  the  party  of  players,  in  high  glee,  and  pursuing  BERTHA. 
All  search  around  in  different  places,  laughing  and  talking. 

EARL. 
We  have  hunted  down  our  fox,  at  last. 

LADY    EMILY. 

Where  is  she  ? 


60  SOLID   SILVER.     ACT  in— SCENE  3. 

.  KATE. 

I  certainly  saw  her  come  into  this  room. 

SPONGE,  JR.,  (drily.) 
You  must  be  mistaken. 

KATE,  (angrily.) 
I  am  not ;  I  saw  her,  sir. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Mistaken,  I  say  ;  if  you  saw  her,  where  is  she  ? 

KATE. 

Where  your  manners  are — gone  !  I  tell  you  I  not  only 
saw  her,  but  heard  her  scream. 

COUNTESS. 

There  is  no  place  where  she  could  hide.  Look,  all  of 
you  !  [All  look  round. ~] 

BARCLAY. 

Here's  another  door ;  she  must  have  escaped  by  this 
way.  [Opens  the  door,  L,  2  E.  All  gather  behind  him,  and 
stretch  their  necks  to  look  over  his  shoulder.']  It's  very  dark. 
Get  me  a  candle,  some  of  you. 

KATE. 

\_Going  to  door,  L.  2  E.,  speaks  off.~]  Oh,  Bertha!  Ber- 
tha !  Please  answer  us.  Please  come  out  to  us.  [Pause.] 

LADY  EMILY,  (going  to  door.) 

Oh,  dear !  What  is  the  good  of  tormenting  people  this 
way  ?  Bertha,  dear,  we're  all  done  playing  !  Come  out 
and  let  us  get  away  from  this  horrid  room. 

EARL. 
Kate,  ask  Mrs.  Busby  for  a  candle. 

SPONGE,  JR.,  (crosses  to  L.  door.) 
Excuse  me,  but  what  do  you  want  a  candle  for  ? 

EARL. 

To  ascertain  what  lies  beyond  here. 


ACT  in— SCENE  3.     SOLID  SILVER.  61 

SPONGE,  JR. 

You  can  see  enough  without  waiting  for  lights.  I  don't 
like  to  lead  your  Lordship,  but  I  am  not  afraid  of  the 
dark.  While  you're  waiting  the  candle,  I'll  go  on. 
SPONGE,  Jr.,  goes  in  the  door  and  disappears.] 

KATE. 
I  am  so  frightened  ;  I  know  not  why, 

COUNTESS. 

This  is  what  was  to  be  expected  from  such  low-bred, 
vulgar  games. 

LADY  EMILY. 

I  think  the  low  breeding  consists  in  carrying  a  joke 
to  the  stupid  length  of  being  disagreeable. 

KATE. 

Emily !  You  know  Bertha  would  not  do  so  ;  that  is 
why  I  fear  for  her.  \Enter  Mrs.  BUSBY,  with  a  candle  in 
each  hand,  R.  H.]  Oh !  Mrs.  Busby,  do  you  know  any 
place  here  where  she  could  hide  if  she  would  ? 

MRS.  BUSBY,  (crosses  c.) 

What's  the  matter?  Who's  she — and  what  do  you 
mean,  Miss  Kate,  by  "  hiding  ?"  [SPONGE,  Jr.  enters  pre- 
cipitately. All  turn,  alarmed,  and  huddle  together.!  Good 
Lord !  *  What's  that  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Don't  be  frightened.  I've  only  been  examining  the 
balance  of  this  lovely  spot. 

MRS.  BUSBY,  (aside.) 

You  plucky  little  rascal !  What  have  you  been  doing 
down  that  corridor  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

'Twas  so  dark,  I  don't  know  myself.  I've  an  impression 
that  I  bumped  my  head.  [  To  KATE.]  Feel  it !  [Holds 
his  head  down  to  KATE,  who  ooxes  his  ears] 

EARL, 

Could  you  see  anything  ? 


62  SOLID   SILVER.     ACT  in— SCENE  3. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

There  are  two  rooms  opening  out  on  one  side, 
and  each  was  silent  and  desolate.  I  could  see  distinctly 
when  the  lightning  flashed  in  the  windows.  It  lit  the  very 
cobwebs  on  the  walls.  Ko  one  could  have  walked  over 
those  floors  for  many  years.  The  corridor  extends  to  what 
I  judge  is  an  outer  wall,  meeting  the  angle  of  that  ex- 
tending opposite  the  rooms  I  speak  of.  I  went  to  the 
length  of  it,  and — I  saw — (pause  a  moment) — 

ALL. 
Well !     Well  !     (  Very  eagerly.)     What  did  you  see  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 
There  was  nobody  there. 

ALL. 
Pshaw ! 

EARL. 

Might  there  not  be  some  passage  which  you  did  not 
discern,  to  the  open  air  ?  [Mrs.  BUSBY  goes  up  stage, 
looking  around.~\ 

SPONGE,  JR. 

None,  I  am  satisfied.  I  do  not  think  she  ever  went  in 
there  ;  certainly  not  to  the  end  of  the  passage.  ~No  woman 
would  dare  it. 

KATE. 
Why  not,  pray  ? 

SPONGE,  JR.,  (shivering.) 

It's  the  pokiest  place  I  ever  was  in.  I  don't  mind 
telling  you  I  did  not  like  it !  But  for  Miss  Huntingdon, 
I  respect  her  so  much  that  if  it  was  for  her  help  I'd  go  to 
the 

KATE,  (R.  H.) 

Hush,  Mr.  Sponge.  [Putting  her  hand  over  his  mouth, 
which  he  kisses  loudly.'] 

SPONGE,  JR.,  (C.) 

I  would,  I  tell  you, — or  for  you  either. 


ACT  in— SCENE  3.      SOLID   SILVER.  63 

MRS.  BUSBY,  (coming  down  L.  c.) 

I  have  been  hoping  some  of  you  would  explain  to  me 
what  all  this  means. 

KAIE,  (R  H.) 

We  were  playing  hide-and-seek,  and  Bertha  ran  in 
here  ;  we  followed,  and  can't  find  her.  [Crying. ~] 

MRS.  BUSBY,  (greatly  agitated.) 

I'm  sure  she's  playing  some  trick  on  us.  It's  only  a 
little  fun,  I'm  sure.  [Goes  up  to  door  L.  H.  ;  speaks  off.~\ 
Miss  Bertha  !  Oh,  Miss  Bertha  !  my  dear  young  mistress  ! 
Please  don't  do  so  in  this  horrid  place.  Oh!  Oh!  \_Crying.~] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

What  are  you  crying  for  ?  If  you  love  her,  do  some- 
thing. Tell  me  what  to  do.  Give  me  leave  and  I'll  tear 
the  old  place  to  pieces.  I  will,  by  Jove  ! 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

I  know  it's  only  a  cruel  joke,  but  there  are  such  awful 
tales  of  this  part  of  this  house  and  of  these  iron-clad 
wretches  !  [Pointing  to  the  pictures.  All  appear  nervous.'] 

COUNTESS. 

Pshaw !  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.  My  lord,  let 
us  go  !  I've  stayed  too  long  already. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

My  lady,  not  one  of  these  men  died  a  peaceful  death  ; 
but  by  battle  and  duel  and  sword.  That  one,  [pointing  to 
the  one  over  the  door  leading  to  corridor  at  L.I  after  a  most 
dreadful  crime,  died  by  his  own  hands,  and 

[  Very  strong  flash  of  lightning  and  loud  thunder,  with 
Italian  crash.  Picture  falls.  All  scream  and  run  to  R.  H. 
and  huddle  together.  Mrs.  B.  falls  in  SPONGE'S  arms  and  sticks 
candle  in  his  face  ;  he  pushes  her  over  to  BARCLAY.  KATE 
at  almost  same  moment  runs  into  SPONGE'S  arms,  finds  out 
who  it  is,  runs  into  R.  corner  screaming.  Children  catch  hold 
of  SPONGE'S  coat  tail  R.  and  L.;  one  crawls  under  his  legs ; 
some  hug  round  his  legs  ;  all  screaming.  SPONGE  stands 


64  SOLID  SILVER.      ACT  in— SCENE  3. 

in  an  attitude  vrith  one  hand  in  his  breast.  This  action  must 
be  done  simultaneously.  Thunder  and  lightning  kept  up  till 
end.  Ring  curtain  down,  when  Mrs.  B.  is  pushed  from 
SPONGE,  Jr.] 


^CURTAIN. 


ACT     FOURTH. 


SCENE  I.  —  Same  apartment,  and  furnished  as  in  Act  I, 
Scene  I.  SPONGE,  Sr.,  and  MORRIS  discovered. 
SPONGE  prying  round  the  secretary,  R.,  which  is  closed 
<md  locked  ;  MORRIS  extended  on  lounge,  L.,  smoking. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

If  that  fellow  had  his  papers  in  the  Bank  of  England, 
they  could  not  be  more  completely  shut  up  than  they  are. 
I'd  sacrifice  as  much  for  business  information  as  any  man 
of  my  age  ought  to  ;  but,  as  nothing  short  of  felony  can 
get  what  we  want,  I  think  I'll  wait. 

MORRIS. 
Wait  for  what  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

For  what  happens  next.  These  providences  are  occur- 
ring in  such  a  remarkable  way,  that  I  would  not  be  at  all 
surprised  to  see  the  ground  open  beneath  us,  and  you  dis- 
appearing in  blue  fire.  It  is  very  painful  to  reflect  that 
yesterday  we  had  a  fete  —  music  and  dancing  ;  to-day, 
confusion  and  distraction  and — death. 

MORRIS. 

I  think  it  is  about  time  this  place  had  a  master,  and 
[rising]  I  believe  I'll  begin  here.  What  do  you  want 
from  that  secretary,  Sponge  ? 

SPONGE,  SR. 

In  the  first  place,  I  would  like  to  see  old  Huntingdon's 
will. 

MORRIS. 

I  can  give  you  the  contents  of  that  from  memory  ;  I've 
studied  it,  Sponge. 
I 


66  SOLID   SILVER,      ACT  iv— SCENE  1. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

I'd  rather  see  for  myself.  I  want  to  read  it  on  the  spot 
where  it  will  take  effect,  if  it  hasn't  already  ;  and, 
besides,  I've  a  passion  for  general  information.  I  want 
to  begin  at  the  top  and  go  to  the  bottom  of  this  con- 
founded piece  of  furniture.  It's  haunted  me  ever  since 
I've  been  in  the  house. 

MORRIS. 

Why  don't  you  open  it,  then  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

I've  no  keys. 

MORRIS. 

Oh  !  if  that's  all,  I  will  send  for  them.  \_Binys  bell  on 
table,  L.  ;  enter  LEON,  R.  1  E.]  Leon,  where  are  the  keys 
of  this  concern  ? 

LEON. 

Mr.  Weir  has  them. 

MORRIS. 

Where  is  he  ? 

LEON. 

He  and  the  son  of  the  gentleman  together  examine  the 
floors  and  walls  of  the  apartment  where  my  mistress 
disappear.  They  do  that  all  the  long  night,  and  find, 
alas !  nothing. 

MORRIS. 

Go  tell  Weir  to  send  the  keys  to  me  ;  and  then  pack 
up  your  things  and  be  off.  Don't  let  me  catch  you  here 
to-morrow. 

LEON. 

I  will  tell  him.  {Exit  c. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

I  will  lay  you  something  handsome  to  a  chaney  orange 
you  don't  get  them.  The  fellow  guards  his  post  like  a 
watch-dog,  and  will  fight  while  there's  life  or  the  hope  of 
it,  or  I'm  no  judge  of  character. 

MORRIS. 

He  will  make  no  contest  with  me,  you  may  depend  on 
that.  If  he  does,  I'll  turn  locksmith,  and  make  a  key  of 
my  own. 


ACT  iv— SCENE  1.     SOLID   SILVER.  67 

SPONGE,    SR. 

What  sort  of  a  key  ? 

MORRIS. 
The  sort  that's  made  of  axes  and  crowbars. 

[Enter  LEON,  c.     MORRIS  holds  out  his  hand.    LEON  stands 
silent.     After  a  pause  j\ 

MORRIS. 

Give  me  the  keys.     What  are  you  waiting  for  ? 

LEON. 
I  have  them  not. 

MORRIS. 
Where  are  they  ?     Did  you  see  Weir  ? 

LEON. 
I  do  not  know.     I  saw  Mr.  Weir. 

MORRIS. 

Did  you  ask  him  for  the  keys  ? 

LEON. 
I  did. 

MORRIS. 

What  did  he  say  ? 

LEON. 

"  Tell  Captain  Moms  that  Miss  Huntingdon  entrusted 
these  keys  to  me  ;  that  I  shall  be  compelled  to  retain 
them  until  she  orders  otherwise,  or  proper  authority 
decides  to  whom  they  belong.  I  will  go  myself  to  the 
Captain  in  one  moment." 

SPONGE,  SR.,  (to  MORRIS.) 
Didn't  I  tell  you  so  ? 

MORRIS. 

I  do  not  propose  to  wait  for  his  royal  highness.  Leon, 
bring  me  an  axe  !  [Exit  LEON,  c. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

You  know  what  you  are  doing,  I  presume.  If  Miss 
Huntingdon  is  alive,  you  are  committing  a  crime,  and  I 
wash  my  hands  of  it. 


68  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  iv— SCENE  1. 

MORRIS. 

If  she  is  not  alive  ? 

SPONGE,    SR. 

You  are  doing  as  you  please  with  your  own.  [  Crosses 
to  L.  H.] 

[Enter  LEON,  with  axe,  and  hands  it  to  MORRIS.   Exit  LEON.] 

MORRIS. 

I'll  take  the  chances.  I  have  tried  a  thousand  more 
desperate.  [Goes  to  secretary,  and  is  about  to  split  the 
doors,  when  SPONGE,  Jr.,  enters  c.,  very  dusty  and  disturbed.'] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Hallo,  Morris,  what  in  the  name  of  the  Seven  Dials  are 
you  doing,  man  ? 

MORRIS. 

I'm  going  to  unlock  this  cabinet. 

SPONGE,    JR. 

You  are  using  a  key  that  will  unlock  the  doors  of  New- 
gate for  you,  then  ;  and  I'm  here  for  a  witness  !  Go 
ahead,  my  tulip  !  [Brings  down  chair  c.,  and  sits  astride 
of  it. 

SPONGE,    SR.    (L.    H.) 

Johnny,  come  to  my  room.  I  want  to  speak  with  you 
privately.  [Going.  SPONGE,  Jr.  does  not  move.']  Do  you 
hear  me  ?  Why  don't  you  come  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  would  rather  remain  where  I  am,  Guv'vy  !  I'm  tired. 
What  with  anxiety  and  never  shutting  an  eye  the  livelong 
night,  I'm  as  badly  beat  out  as  you  were,  Morris,  after 
the  last  Derby. 

MORRIS. 
How's  that,  young  Shylock  ? 

SPONGE,    JR. 

I'm  not  worth  a  shilling  to  anybody. 

MORRIS. 

And  you  have  not  been  able  to  find  her,  eh  ? 


ACT  iv— SCENE  1.      SOLID   SILVER.  69 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Not  yet.  This  suspense  is  horrible  ;  but  if  there's 
foul  work,  I'll  never  give  up  till  it's  exposed,  you  may 
depend. 

MORRIS. 

I  suppose  that  paragon  of  virtue,  Weir,  will  be  your 
lieutenant  of  police  till  he  disappears,  too.  I  expected  to 
hear  he  had  melted  into  air.  I  would  recommend  you  to 
keep  your  eye  on  him  and 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Before  you  say  more,  let  me  do  a  little  recommending. 
I  recommend  you  not  to  make  any  insinuation  against 
Miss  Huntingdon  in  my  presence. 

MORRIS. 

Oh  !  you  do,  indeed !  Your  impressive  suggestions 
quite  overwhelm  me. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

This  is  no  time  for  unnecessary  words.  Your  cousin 
may  be  dying  or  dead  beneath  her  own  roof,  for  what  I 
know.  You  dare  to  malign  her  by  a  word  —  yes,  by  a 
look  —  and,  though  I  never  harmed  the  least  of  God's 
creatures,  I'll  kill  you  as  I  would  a  hyena,  and  hang  for  it 
afterwards  with  pleasure.  Remember  what  I  say. 

[Exit  SPONGE,  Jr.,  c. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

[  Who  has  stood  near  the  door,  amazed  at  this  ebullition 
of  his  son's  temper  and  spirit.']  What  the  devil  is  the 
matter  with  everybody  in  this  cursed  house  ?  That  boy 
is  fit  for  Bedlam.  I'll  go  to  town  and  wait  for  what  turns 
up.  If  I  stay  here  much  longer,  I'll  go  crazy,  and  kill 
old  Busby  herself. 

MORRIS. 

If  you  make  way  with  that  venerable  catamaran  I'll 
give  you  absolution  !  Don't  go,  Sponge,  till  I  appease 
your  curiosity.  I  am  going  to  unlock  this  infernal  piece 
of  furniture,  I  tell  you. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

No,  no  !     Don't  do  it  for  me.     I  do  not  desire  to  see  its 


70  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  iv— SCENE  2. 

contents.     Business  may  go  to  the  devil  ;  I  am  going  to 
London.     Open  it  on  your  own  responsibility. 

MORRIS. 

On  my  own  responsibility  be  it  then  !  [  Takes  stage  a 
little  towards  L.  H.;  goes  towards  the  book-case  and  is  about, 
to  strike,  when  enter  PAUL.] 

PAUL. 

[Stands  between  MORRIS  and  book-case."]  I  regret  to  be  un- 
able to  deliver  you  the  keys  you  sent  for,  Captain  Morris, 
but  I  can  not  permit  the  cabinet  to  be  opened. 

MORRIS. 

When  I  ask  permission  it  will  be  time  to  accord  or  re- 
fuse it.  I  claim  the  right  for  myself. 

PAUL,  (leaning  on  desk.) 

Claim  whatever  rights  you  please,  sir.  This  cabinet 
must  not  be  touched. 

MORRIS. 

You  insolent  dog  !  interfere  with  me  at  your  peril ! 
Stand  out  of  my  way  !  [Lifts  the  axe.  Before  he  has  time 
to  strike  a  blow,  PAUL  siezes  the  axe  and  throws  it  across  the 
stage  L.  H.  Old  SPONGE  leaps  nimbly  on  a  sofa.  MORRIS 
takes  hold,  of  PAUL,  and  they  struggle  to  center  of  stage  ;  PAUL 
catches  MORRIS  by  the  throat  and  bends  him  backwards  over 
table  L.  c.] 

SPONGE,  SR. 

Help  !  help  !  fire  !   murder  !  police  ! 
Enter  Mrs.  BUSBY,  SPONGE,  Jr.,  LEON  and  other  servants. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Hurrah  !  First  knock  down  for  us.  Pick  up  your 
man,  Governor  !  Time  !  [Change. 


SCENE  II. — Housekeeper's  room.     Two  chairs  carried  on. 
Enter  Mrs.  BUSBY  and  Mrs.  WEIR,  (R.  H.  1  E.) 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

Sit  down,  Mrs.  Weir,  and  I  will  finish   what   I   was 


ACT  iv— -SCENE  2.      SOLID   SILVER.  71 

saying.  It's  so  kind  of  you  to  come.  I  don't  know  which 
way  to  turn.  I  sent  yesterday  for  Mr.  Oldcastle,  the  family 
lawyer,  and  I  hope  he'll  show  some  sense^ancj  do  some- 
thing. 

MRS.  WEIR. 
I  should  suppose  Captain  Morris  would 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Don't  speak  his  name,  Mrs.  Weir,  unless  you  wish  to 
see  me  go  into  a  fit  before  your  very  eyes.  He  do  any- 
thing ?  He  tried  to  rob  the  library  this  morning,  and 
Mr.  Weir  caught  him  at  it  and  knocked  him  over,  just  as 
easy  !  Oh,  you  should  have  seen  him  crawl  off,  while 
Paul  stood  there  as  grand  as  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and 
young  Sponge  said  prize  fight  words  and  hurrahed  like 
mad.  That"  boy's  not  such  a  fool  as  Le  looks.  He  is  a 
regular  singed  cat,  in  my  opinion. 

MRS.  WEIR. 

I  am  glad  he  is  better  than  you  thought,  dear !  But 
Paul  has  not  been  near  me  since — since  then,  and  I  hoped 
I  should  see  him  here,  if  he  would  not  come  home  to  me. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

Home  !  I  should  say  not,  indeed  !  He  has  grown  ten 
years  older  with  fatigue  and  distress.  But  that  other  one 
is  made  of  whalebone.  He  is  as  lively  as  though  he  had 
been  taking  his  rest  on  beds  of  roses,  instead  of  climbing 
through  holes  and  into  chimneys,  like  a  crazy  cat,  for  two 
nights  and  a  day.  Whatever  happens,  I'll  never  forget 
him.  I  asked  him  this  very  evening  to  sit  down  and  eat 
something.  "Not  much,"  says  he":  "Buzzy,"  says  he, 
(he  calls  me  "Buzzy,"  dear,  just  for  fun,)  I'll  eat  when 
she  does,  and  not  before  ;"  and  off  he  went  like  a  race- 
horse— God  bless  him  ! 

MRS.  WEIR. 

Do  you  fear  any  one  has  harmed  her  ? 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

There's  one  within  reach  who  desires  nothing  so  much 
as  her  death,  and  that's  as  bad  as  murder.  I  should  think 
people's  heirs  would  have  some  decency.  Thank  Heaven, 


72  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  iv— SCENE  2. 

I've  no  money  to  leave  behind  me,  and  no  next  of  kin  to 
wait  around  my  bed,  wishing  me  gone,  and  ready  to  fight 
for  plunder  like  a  pack  of  wolves,  and  eat  me  up  before 
the  breath  is  out  of  my  body  !  If  I  was  Parliament,  I 

would  have  a  law  to [Enter  LEON,  L.  1  E. 

LEON. 

Mr.  Oldcastle  has  arrived,  and  comes  here  directly, 
madam. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

That's  right.  Don't  mind  him,  Mrs.  Weir.  He's  fussy 
and  pompous  ;  but  there's  more  bark  than  bite  in  him. 
Show  him  up. 

[Exit  LEON,  and  enter  Mr.  OLDCASTLE,  L.  1  E. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

How  d'ye  do,  Mrs.  Busby  ?  [Shaking  hands.~]  Why, 
Mrs.  Weir,  is  this  you  ?  Bless  me,  I  have  not  seen  you 

for  many  a  day.     It  seems  but  yesterday  since But 

never  mind.     How's  Miss  Bertha  and  all  the  rest  ? 

MRS.  BUSBY. 
Did  you  not  come  in  answer  to  a  messenger  I  sent  you  ? 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

I've  seen  no  messenger  of  yours.  I  received  a  letter 
from  Miss  Bertha,  directing  me  to  prepare  some  papers 
of  such  an  extraordinary  character,  I  thought  I'd  bring 
them  down  myself. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

What  were  they  ? 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

I  don't  know  as  that  is  any  of  your  business,  Mrs. 
Busby.  I'll  consider  of  it,  while  you  are  ordering  me  a 
cup  of  tea  and  some  bread  and  butter.  Then  send  Miss 
Bertha  word  I'm  here,  and  ready  to  attend  to  business. 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

I'll  give  you  what  there  is  ;  but  I  don't  believe  there's 
a  bit  of  bread  in  the  house  —  we're  in  such  a  state  ! 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

~No  bread?  Then  give  me  some  toast  —  I'm  not  par- 
ticular ! 


ACT  iv— SCENE  2.      SOLID   SILVER.  73 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

Then  you  don't  know  what  has  happened  ?  Poor 
lanih  ! 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Who's  a  lamb  ?  Where  are  your  senses  ?  If  you  have 
any  news,  make  yourself  happy,  like  any  other  woman, 
by  telling  it. 

MRS.  BUSBY. 

It's  no  pleasure  to  tell  it,  I'm  sure.  Miss  Bertha  has 
gone.  [Mrs.  WEIR  and  Mrs.  BUSBY  both  cry.~] 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Gone  '{  Gone  where,  you  £ — oolish  woman.  Speak, 
can't  yon  ': 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

She  hid  herself  in  the  Tower  rooms,  night  before  last, 
and  we  have  not  been  able  to  find  her. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Who  has  looked  for  her  '! 

MRS.    BUSBY. 

Everybody  except  Captain  Morris,  who  has  only 
looked  into  the  bottom  of  every  brandy  bottle  he  could 
lay  his  hands  on.  Poor  Mrs.  Weir's  son  has  nearly 
killed  himself  with  labor  and  anxiety  ;  and  as  for  young 
Sponge  —  well ! 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Humph  !     What  have  they  done  ? 

MRS.    WEIR. 

Paul  has  done  all  he  could  do,  sir.  Without  power  to 
act,  what  more  could  he  do  than  search  for  her,  day  and 
night  ? 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Do !  Tear  the  old  rookery  to  pieces.  I  would  have 
done  it,  and  I  will  do  it  now.  It's  no  waste.  There's 
plenty  of  law  for  it.  She  is  possibly  caught  in  some  of 
the  ancient  passages  or  fallen  into  some  well  or  crypt.  She 
may  be  there,  and  may  not !  I  can't  tell  what  a  woman 
will  do.  I  have  been  a  solicitor  in  Chancery  forty  years — 
,T 


74  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  iv— SCENE  3. 

but  women  !  I  never  understood  them,  and  never  hope  to. 
Now,  look  here  !  She  writes  me  to  prepare  conveyances 
of  all  she  can  dispose  of  by  deed,  and  leave  the  grantee's 
name  in  blank  for  her  to  fill  up.  If  she  had  been  a  man, 
I'd  have  asked  for  a  reason  for  this  !  But  a  woman  never 
had  a  reason  for  anything.  I  come  here  and  she  aggravates 
the  first  surprise  by  a  second  downright  horror.  Never 
mind  the  tea.  I'm  so  furious  I  could  drink  aqua-fortis. 
Show  me  the  way  to  these  searching  youngsters  !  I'll 
give  them  something  to  do.  [Mrs.  BUSBY  am/  Mrs.  WEIR 
both  try  to  speak. ~\  No  more  words.  I  have  heard  enough 
already.  You'll  talk  me  to  death.  Two  to  one  on  it — two 
to  one  on  it.  [Exit  OLDCASTLE  rapidly,  followed  by  both 
women,  who  hurry  to  keep  up  with  him.  All  talking  together. ~\ 


SCENE  III. — Exterior  of  Huntingdon  Towers,  showing  at 
rear  of  stage  a  half-ruined  wall  and  tower,  overgrown 
with  ivy,  which  conceals  a  small  door  in  center.  Trees, 
etc.  Moonlight  rests  on  the  wall.  MORRIS  discovered 
pacing  to  and  fro. 

MORRIS. 

Is  it  the  terror  of  undetected  crime  which  thus  unmans 
me  ?  Speechless  under  insult,  beaten  like  a  dog  by  the 
hirelings  of  this  girl,  disgraced  even  in  my  own  esteem,  I 
only  dream  of  my  revenge.  In  the  very  presence  of  this 
catastrophe,  which  promises  to  bring  me  to  a  golden  de- 
liverance, I  tempt  myself  to  self-destruction  !  When  I 
would  dare  to  speak,  some  ghostly  presence  lays  its 
skeleton  hand  upon  my  lips  and  murders  speech  itsel£ 
Has  she  vanished  forever  ?  Do  I  believe  her  dead  ? 
Pshaw  !  It  is  a  woman's  silly  scheme  to  watch  me  from 
some  secure  retreat  and  justify  herself.  But  no !  She 
was  resolved  to  baffle  me  even  before  she  disappeared, 
and  had  no  motive  for  this  juggler's  trick.  \_Pauses  as  if 
thinking.~\  Let  me  be  patient — let  me  maintain  my  reason 
undisturbed  till  late  shall  spring  like  sunrise  from  the 

night,  or  come  in  the  garb  of  the  convicted {Enter 

workmen,   with   tools,  led   by  LEON,  (R.  3  E.,)  who  attempt 
to  cross  the  stage. ~\     Ah  !  who's  that  V 


ACT  iv— SCENE  3.      SOLID   SILVER.  75 

LEON. 

Quick  !     This  way  !  this  way  1 

MORRIS. 

Where  are  you  going  with  these  men  ? 

LEON. 

Into  the  west  wing,  there.  Monsieur  Weir  will  open  all 
the  wall  to  find,  perhaps,  some  trace  of  my  dear  mistress. 
But  I  delay.  Allons,  Messieurs  ! 

MORRIS. 

By  whose  permission  is  this  waste  attempted  ?  Not  by 
mine  !  I  will  judge  of  its  necessity.  Go  back.  Lay  your 
hands,  without  my  orders,  on  a  solitary  stone  of  this 
estate  and  I'll  lodge  you  where  thieves  belong. 

LEON. 

Captain,  hear  me  !  Be  not  so  cruel.  It  is  but  a  ruin 
and  will  early  tall  into  the  light  of  day. 

MORRIS. 

Silence,  sir  !  Go,  all  of  you  !  [All  retire  as  they  came.'] 
These  fools  will  pull  the  Towers  about  my  ears  while  lam 
sleeping.  I  will  light  a  cigar  and  be  my  own  guardian, 
for  this  night  at  least.  [Tremolo  "  Mistletoe  Bough,"  until 
MORRIS  ret/ f Is  tablet.  MORRIS  light*  A/.y  cigar  and  seats  him- 
self half  R.  IL,  facing  the  rum.']  My  old  friend,  I  will  kill 
the  man  who  breaks  one  ivy  twig  from  your  wrinkled 
front,  and  not  a  bird  shall  build  its  nest  in  your  broken 
stones  without  my  leave.  I  feel  inclined  to  exile  those 
who  nestle  there  to-night.  [.1  rustling  ntorcnn  n1  is  seen  in 
the  iry.~]  Ah !  I  will  expel  you,  little  trespassers  of 
Nature,  as  I  will  drive  out  every  human  creature  now 
beneath  my  roofs  !  The  change  shall  be  radical  when  it 
begins  ;  by  Heaven  it  shall.  [Hustling  continue*,  and  from 
high  up  on  the  wall  a  bird  flutters  to  the  ground  and  lies 
there.  MORRIS  picks  it  up.']  Poor  trembler  !  You  shrink 
from  me  as  she  did — do  you  ?  I'll  wring  your  neck  !  No — 
I  won't — -just  yet.  What's  this  ?  [Finds  BERTHA'S  dancing 
tablet  fastened  to  its  wings  ;  unfastens  it ;  lets  the  bird  fly 
away.  Goes  to  the  moonlight.']  As  I  live — it's  a  dancing 


76  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  iv— SCENE  3. 

tablet,  [Heads."]  "  Lancers,  Captain  Morris  ;"  u  Quadrille, 

Mr.   Barclay;'     "  Schottische,    Captain ."      It's   her 

card  of  dances.  All  names  but  Death's  !  He  led  her  to  his 
festival  before  the  rest  of  us  were  done  with  her.  Ha  !  Ha  I 
[Advances  and  looks  again  at  the  tablet.  Reads  by  light  of 
cigar. ]  Here's  my  name  marked  out  too  !  Well,  my 
sweet  cousin — I'll  lose  no  time  in  blotting  out  yours, 
believe  me.  Ah  !  Merciful  Heaven !  What  is  this 
•crawled  beneath  it  ?  [Reads with  difficulty. ~\  "Behind the 
Tower  chimney  !  Hasten,  I  am  dying.  Bertha."  [Comes 
forward  with  tablet  in  his  hand!}  Ten  thousand  curses 
on  me !  What  devil  lured  me  here  to  tempt  me  to  a 
murder  ?  [Pauses  in  great  excitement.']  Why  do  I  stand 
with  trembling,  helpless  hands  ?  Am  I  a  demon  ?  Xo  I 
I'll  give  the  alarm  and  tear  the  Tower  stone  from  stone. 
But  wait  I'll  think, — I'll  think,— of  that,  which,  if  I  do 
it  not,  will  swell  this  tiny  banner  of  her  delivering  hope  to 
a  pall  through  which  no  sunlight  shall  ever  come  to  my 
damned  soul.  Oh  !  what  is  wealth,  if  innocent  blood 
drips  from  every  guinea  ?  Or  what  repose,  when  every 
winter's  wind  shall  bear  her  cries  for  help  and  every 
summer's  breeze  have  freight  of  dying  sighs  ?  If  I  but 
dared — but  no,  no,  no,  I  will  not  murder  her.  [Goes  up 
stage  and  calls.l  Help  !  [Enter  SPONGE,  Sr.,  L.  1  E.]  Help  ! 
Leon,  Weir,  all  of  you  !  Help  ! 

SPONGE,  SR. 

What  is  the  matter  with  you  that  you  call  for  help  ? 
You  have  been  drinking  far  too  much  of  late,  and  now 
you  look  as  if  you'd  seen  the  ghosts  of  the  whole  army 
of  martyrs. 

MORRIS,  (advancing.) 

Did  you  ever  see  your  own  ghost  ?  I  have  seen  mine, 
that's  all. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

I  only  see  you  in  the  flesh,  and,  as  usual,  the  worse  for 
liquor.  But  drunk  or  sober,  I  must  speak  with  you. 

MORRIS. 
Quick,  then  ! 


ACT  iv— SCENE  3.     SOLID   SILVER.  77 

SPONGE,  SR. 

You  have  avoided  me  for  clays.  I  believe  you 
mean  mischief,  and  I'll  have  no  more' trifling.  To-morrow 
morning  I  must  have  your  banker's  draft  for  every  penny 
you  owe  me.  You  have  enough.  I  have  contrived  to  see 
the  accounts  of  the  estate. 

MORRIS. 

I  have  no  money — nor  estate.  Cease  torturing  me. 
Go,  for  God's  sake  go  !  Leave  me  to  my  better  self  for 
just  one  minute,  I  entreat  you. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

Obey  me,  sir,  or  I  will  place  you  before  every  court  in 
the  land  as  a  bankrupt  swindler. 

MORRIS. 
Get  out  of  my  way.  [Crosses  to  L.  H.]     I  care  not. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

I  will  do  more  ;  I  will  make  a  convict  of  you.  I  will  see 
you  handcuffed  in  the  dock,  listen  to  your  sentence  and 
point  you  out  to  the  street  mob  as  you  go  chained  to  your 
fellows  in  crime,  to  penal  servitude.  Forger !  give  me 
my  money  or  take  the  consequences. 

MORRIS. 

You-shall-have-it.  [Lights  a  match  with  //•////•//  he  sets 
tablet  on  Jire  and  then  crushes  it  in  his  hand  and  throws  it 
on  the  ground,  half  burned. .] 

SPONGE,  SR. 

AVhat  devilish  incantation  is  he  performing  now  ?  You 
look  unearthly,  upon  my  soul !  [MORRIS  reels  from  the 
xfdt/c  L.  1  E.,  and  SPONGE,  Sr.  follow  t*.~]  lie  is  crazed  with 
brandy.  I'll  see  he  lays  no  violent  hands  upon  himself 
until  I  am  satisfied.  Ah  !  intemperance  is  a  fearful  vice  ! 
I  always  put  water  in  my  brandy  !  [Exit  SPONGE,  Sr. 

Enter  SPONGE,  Jr.  and  PAUL,  (L.  2  E.) 

PAUL. 
The  workmen  should  have  been  here  an  hour  ago. 


78  SOLID   SILVER.      ACT  iv— SCENE  3. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

They  must  come  soon.  Did  you  observe  my  governor 
and  Morris,  as  we  came  through  the  garden  ?  Morris 
looked  like  a  dead  man,  galvanized  for  some  hideous  res- 
urrection. Where  are  those  men  ?  My  idea  is  to  com- 
mence on  the  outside  wall.  This  angle  is  the  very  spot 
to  begin.  I'll  show  you.  [Goes  to  the  wall.']  Paul,  here's 
an  entrance  beneath  the  ivy.  It  must  lead  to  the  old 
rooms  where  we  have  lost  her.  Hark  !  [Listening  and 
motioning  PAUL  to  keep  still.']  I'd  swear  I  heard  a  moan. 
[PAUL  pushes  SPONGE  aside  and  listens.'] 

SPONGE,  JR. 
Did  you  not  hear  a  sound  ?     [Both  come  down  stageJ] 

PAUL. 

If  I  could  hear  one  murmur  I'd  tear  each  separate  stone 
from  stone,  though  my  grave  lay  beneath  them  !  No, 
no  !  I  heard  no  sound  save  the  sighing  of  the  night  wind 
through  the  ivy  and  the  beating  of  my  heart.  It  is  as 
still  as  death  itself !  [Advancing  R.  H.] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

You  are  too  weary  and  heart-sick  to  use  your  faculties. 
I  swear  I  heard  the  moaning  of  a  human  voice.  Let  me 
go  there  again. 

PAUL. 

Don't  think  I  can  not  hear !  I'd  know  the  music  of 
her  voice  though  I  lay  waiting  resurrection.  ["Misletoe 
Bough  "  tremolo  p.  p.  till  dropJ] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

[Sees  the  half  burned  tablet  with  ribbon  attached  which 
MORRIS  has  left  on  the  ground.']  Hallo,  hallo  !  Here's 
treasure-trove — a  pretty  ribbon.  [Picks  it  up. ~\  I'll  tie 
some  flowers  up  with  it  for  Miss  Kate.  Here's  paper, 
too,  half  burned  !  By  Jove,  that's  queer  !  [Looks  at  it."] 
What's  this  ?  It's  Bertha's  tablets,  Paul !  and  here  the 
dance  I  marked  on  it  myself.  Look  here,  look  here. 

PAUL. 
Give  it  me.  [Takes  and  reads.~\  "Tower  chimney" — 


ACT  iv— SCENE  3.      SOLID   SILVER.  ,     79 

"dying" — give  me  something,  anything  to  burst  this  door. 
Help  !  help  !  [PAUL  siezes  some  gardener's  tool  and  SPONGE, 
Jr.  another  ;  they  break  down  the  door  and  enter.  Everybody 
on.  All  enter  R.  and  L.,  Mrs.  BUSBY,  Mrs.  WEIR,  KATE — all 
the  gentlemen  and  ladies.  Mrs.  WEIR  crosses  to  L.  H.  PAUL 
returns  carrying  BERTHA,  senseless,  and  places  her  on  the 
(/round.  SPONGE,  Jr.  throws  his  arms  around  KATE  joyously] 

PAUL. 

Water,  water — quick  !   some  of  you  !     [KATE  kneels  by 
Iter  and  feels  her  heart] 

KATE. 

There  is  no  life.    Too  late  !   too  late  !     \¥&VL  falls  faint- 
ing at  her  feet.      Tableau.] 


-CURTAIN. 


ACT     FIFTH. 


SCENE  I. —  The  same  room  as  in  Third  Scene  of  Second  Act. 
A  fire  is  burning  in  the  grate.  Mrs.  WEIR  and 
young  SPONGE  discovered.  She  is  arranging  break- 
fast for  one  person  on  a  little  table,  with  a  bunch  of 
flowers  in  the  center.  SPONGE,  Jr.,  is  at  grate,  pour- 
ing hot  water  from  kettle  into  teapot,  and  puts  it  on 
the  hob. 

MRS.    WEIR. 

I  do  not  know  how  to  express  my  gratitude,  Mr. 
Sponge,  for  all  your  kindness.  \_Sits  L.  of  table.'] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Don't  try.  It's  a  deal  jollier  that  you  can't.  I  have 
made  a  poor  fist  at  nursing  ;  but  I  tried  my  best,  anyhow. 
[Sits  R.  of  table.~] 

MRS.    WEIR. 

Your  cheerful,  patient  ways  have  comforted  me  greatly; 
and  even  Paul,  as  he  lay  raving  with  delirium,  and  always 
passing  in  imagination  through  those  dreadful  days, 
would  yield  to  you  when  no  one  else  could  calm  him. 
She  has  not  been  here  during  his  three  weeks'  illness  ; 
but  she  has  done  much  for  us,  notwithstanding.  And 
well  may  she  be  grateful.  He  almost  died  for  her. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

She  told  me  she  was  coming  here  to-day.  She  has 
the  medicine  to  suit  his  complaint,  and  I  hope  she  will 
bring  it  with  her.  I  know  what's  the  matter  with 
him.  I  had  it  so  bad  myself,  in  another  direction,  that 
I  understood  it  from  the  start.  The  truth  is,  a  man 
K 


82  SOLID  SILVER.       ACT  v— SCENE  1. 

never  knows  another  man's  heart  till  he  learns  he  has 
one  of  his  own.  Once  I  could  not  have  distinguished 
heartache  from  toothache  ;  but  now  I  know  all  the  symp- 
toms, if  I  qan't  cure  the  pain.  Let  me  help  you.  [Pushes 
an  easy  chair  to  the  table.  Music  of  song  of  Third  Act, 
played  tremolo,  until  PAUL  is  seated.']  There  !  Now  we 
are  comfortable,  and  I  will  bring  Paul  in  to  breakfast. 

\Exit  SPONGE,  Jr.,  K.  3  E. 

MRS.  WEIR. 

I  wish  she  would  stay  away.     But  they  must  meet,  and 
why  not  first  beneath  his  mother's  roof? 
\_Ee-enter  SPONGE,  Jr.,  supporting  PAUL,  who  is  very  pale, 
and  totters  with  weakness.     He  sits  in  arm-chair,  R.  of 
table.] 

SPONGE,    JR. 

Come  on,  old  boy  ;  here's  your  chair — sit  down.  There 
you  are,  as  grand  as  my  Lord  Mayor.  [Stands  off,  admir- 
ing him.']  How  are  you  now  ? 

PAUL. 
I  am  weaker  than  I  thought. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Well,  you  are  hardly  up  to  fighting  weight.  But  all 
you  have  to  do  is  to  mind  your  mammy  and  Dr.  Sponge, 
and  you  will  soon  be  fit  to  shy  your  castor  in  the  ring 
with  any  of  'em. 

PAUL. 

I  care  little  for  renewed  strength  ;  though,  mother, 
when  I  look  at  you,  I  hope  for  health  to  serve  us  when 
we  commence  life  in  the  New  World. 

MRS.  WEIR. 

I  will  not  seek  to  change  your  determination,  Paul.  If 
we  can  find  your  peace,  I  can  live  contented  anywhere. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

You  talk  as  if  you  were  going  to  travel  like  a  blessed 
pair  of  wandering  minstrels  —  Paul  with  a  hand-organ, 
and  you  with  a  tamborine.  Don't  think  I  have  nursed 
and  coddled  this  man  to  lose  him  now.  No,  Paul,  when 


ACT  v— SCENE  1.        SOLID  SILVER.  83 

you  leave  here,  you  go  to  London.  I  have  great  plans  for 
you.  It  is  to  be  a  combination  of  brains  and  character 
with  money,  and  we'll  grow  old  and  rich  together.  Even 
my  governor  says  a  man  like  you  has  a  fortune  in  his 
hands,  and  I'm  going  to  have  my  share  of  it. 

PAUL. 

I  thank  you,  John  ;  but  I  must  leave  England. 
SPONGE,  JR. 

Pshaw  !  Eat,  and  don't  talk  nonsense,  or  I'll  put  you 
in  bed  and  keep  you  there.  Bless  me  !  While  we  are 
talking  this  toast  is  freezing.  I  will  make  some  more. 
[Takes  a  fork  and  bread  from  the  table,  and  kneels  before 
the,  grate  to  toast  it.  PAUL  takes  the  flowers  from  the  table 
<n"l  smells  them.  A  knock.  Mrs.  WEIR  goes  to  the  door. 
Ushers  in  BERTHA  and  KATE.  Mrs.  WEIR  and  KATE  stop 
to  speak  with  each  other.  BERTHA  goes  directly  to  R.  H.  of 
PAUL.  He  tries  to  rise,  but  cannot.  She  takes  his  hand, 
bursts  into  tears,  and  bends  over  the  back  of  the  easy-chair .] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

[Not  observing  the  arrival,  but  intent  on  his  toastJ]  Bully  ! 
It's  as  brown  as  a  berry,  and  raving  hot.  Whew  !  I'm 
melting !  Here,  Mrs.  Weir  ;  give  me  a  plate  for  this 
cookery.  [KATE  motions  Mrs.  WEIR  to  keep  silent.  Takes 
the  plate  from  table,  and  stands  behind  SPONGE.]  I  wish  I 
had  that  icy-hearted  Kate  here.  I'd  warm  her !  Hold 
your  plate,  Mrs.  Weir.  [Discovers  KATE,  standing,  plate 
in  hand.~\  Good  morning,  Miss  Kate.  Have  a  bite  ? 

KATE. 

\_Holdmg  plate  at  arm's  length,  as  if  afraid.~\  There's 
your  plate,  cook  ;  but  please  don't  carry  your  torrid 
threats  into  execution.  [.Puts  toast  on  table,  and  retires,  in 
pretended  fear  of  SPONGE,  across  the  room,  at  back,  who 
follows  her,  fork  in  hand.  KATE  sits  on  sofa,  L.  H.  SPONGE 
plucks  a  bouquet  at  back  from  plants  in  window.  Mrs. 
WEIR  goes  to  fireplace."] 

BERTHA,    (to   PAUL.) 

I  will  not  try  to  thank  you.  I  owe  my  life  to  your 
fidelity,  and  feel,  if  possible,  a  deeper  gratitude  when  I. 


84  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  v— SCENE  1. 

realize  the  suffering  I  have  caused  you.  If  I  can  make 
you  a  return,  do  but  speak,  and  I  will  gladly  obey  your 
wishes. 

PAUL. 
I  have  nothing  to  ask,  Miss  Huntingdon. 

BERTHA. 

Are  all  these  friends  so  lavish  of  their  gifts  that  they 
leave  others  nothing  to  bestow  ?  You  must  be  happy  in 
such  wealth. 

PAUL. 

They  have  done  more  than  I  could  hope  from  others  ; 
and — I  am — satisfied. 

BERTHA. 

I  am  not  satisfied.  When  I  revived  after  my  fall  into 
that  horrid  pit  of  death  within  the  Tower  walls,  I  knew 
you  would  find  me,  for  my  father's  sake.  When  no  one 
came,  I  slept  or  fainted  ;  and  then  after  what  seemed 
years  of  darkness,  I  heard  the  twitter  of  a  bird  that  had 
its  nest  behind  the  wall.  I  reached  my  lame  hands  out 
and  caught  at  it  for  company.  I  wrote  those  few  despairing 
words  upon  my  tablets,  and  bound  them  to  my  little 
messenger  and  loosed  it.  It  fluttered  quick  away,  and 
then  I  fancied  it  would  find  you  and  bring  you  to  me. 
You  rescued  me  from  solitary,  lingering  death,  and  now 
you  will  not  let  me  show  my  thankfulness.  Sickness  has 
made  you  hard-hearted  and  perverse. 

PAUL. 

I  am  too  weak  to  answer  you.  What  can  I  do  to  show 
you  I  am  neither  ?  [SPONGE  advances  to  KATE  ;  gives  her 
a  small  bouquet.'] 

BERTHA. 

Come  with  your  mother  to  the  Towers  for  a  change  of 
air,  and  we  will  nurse  you  back  to  health.  Won't  we, 
Kate? 

KATE. 

Oh,  yes  !  Mr.  Sponge  will  be  your  cook,  and  I  will  go 
into  the  scullery  myself,  and  wait  on  him. 


ACT  v— SCENE  1.       SOLID   SILVER.  85 

SPONGE,  JR. 

You  will  ?  That  settles  it.  I'll  bring  him  up  to-morrow. 
Say  no  more.  You  have  carried  your  point,  so  leave  my 
patient  to  his  breakfast  or  I  shall  be  compelled  to  roast 
again  before  my  time.  [Pointing  to  the  grate.'] 

BERTHA. 

Good-bye  until  to-morrow,  Mr.  Weir!  [7'oMrs.  WEIR.] 
I  have  my  own  surprise  prepared  for  you,  and  it  may  be 
you  will  not  think  me  altogether  without  sense  of  obliga- 
tion to  your  son.  [Kisses  Mrs.  WEIR  affectionately,  and 
then  gives  her  hand  to  PAUL,  who  holds  it  listlessly.  KATE  is 
putting  on  her  glove,  and  gives  her  hand  to  SPONGE,  to  fasten 
it.-] 

SPONGE,  JR.,  (pause.) 

[  Taking  KATE'S  hand.~]  He  must  be  awful  weak!  If  I 
were  him  and  had  my  wits  and  but  half  that  temptation, 
I'd  never  treat  her  hand  so  shamefully. 

KATE. 
How  would  you  treat  it,  pray  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I'd  give  it  this — and  this — and  this.  [Kissing  her  hand 
rapturously  .~\ 

KATE. 

[Pulling  her  hand  away,  and  holding  it  at  ami's  length.] 
Give  me  some  water,  quick,  to  wash  my  hand. 

BERTHA. 

You  think  it  perfumed,  Kate.  You  know  you  do.  [  To 
PAUL.]  You  will  not  kiss  my  hand  ?  [PAUL  looks  at  her, 
then  kisses  her  hand.~] 

PAUL. 

You  have  repaid  me.  Good-bye,  until  to-morrow.  I 
shall  have  strength  to  go,  Miss  Huntingdon.  [Song  music, 
tremolo,  as  before,  until  change.  BERTHA  and  KATE  go  to 
the  door,  accompanied  by  SPONGE,  Jr.  SPONGE,  Jr.,  and 
KATE  go  out.  BERTHA  stands  in  doorway,  looking  back. 
Mrs.  WEIR  goes  to  PAUL,  and  takes  the  hand  BERTHA  has 
held.  PAUL  takes  it  away  quickly, ,] 


86  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  v— SCENE  2. 

PAUL. 

Not  that,  mother.     Take  the  other  one.     [Giving  her 
the  other  hand.~]     I'll  keep  this  to  myself.     \_Gliany e.~\ 


SCENE   II. — Same   set   as   in  Act   II,   Scene   II.      Enter 
SPONGE;,  Si\,  R.  1  E. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

I  am  a  battered  old  sixpence,  that's  what  I  am.  It  is 
time  I  was  withdrawn  from  circulation  and  melted  into  a 
precious  old  spoon.  I  can't  keep  my  head  with  this  ever- 
lasting game  of  see-saw.  Just  look  at  me  !  I  am  gulled 
out  of  my  money,  and  down  I  go.  The  obstacle  to  pay- 
ment is  providentially  removed,  and  up  I  go.  The  ob- 
stacle improvidentially  comes  to  life,  and  down  I  go. 
I  trot  to  London  and  put  the  law  on  my  captain's  track,  and 
up  I  go.  My  captain  gives  me  the  slip,  gets  out  of  reach, 
and  cuts  for  France  ;  my  revenge  follows  my  money,  arid 
down  I  go.  My  son  remains  behind  and  writes  me  he  has 
value  received  from  the  family,  and  up  I  go.  I  hurry  back 
to  get  the  securities,  and  my  young  fool  shows  me  another 
young  fool,  and  tells  me  he  has  determined  to  take  her  in 
full  of  all  demands,  and  down  I  go.  Nothing  sustains  me 
in  this  vale  of  tears  but  trust  in  Providence,  and  the  luck 
of  sixty  years.  I  hope  I'll  get  another  riser  pretty  soon, 
and  if  I  do,  I'll  take  good  care  I  don't  go  down  again. 

Enter  LEON,  (L.  1  E.) 
A  letter  for  you,  sir.     [Gives  him  a  letter.'] 

SPONGE,  SR. 

Thank  you.  [LEON  starts  to  go.~\  Here,  sir !  come 
back.  [LEON  returns.'}  You're  a  very  nice  young  man, 
and  here's  something  for  you.  [Feels  in  his  pockets,  pulls 
out  a  purse,  puts  on  his  spectacles  and  examines  its  contents 
carefully .]  Hum  !  nothing  less  than  half  a  crown.  Never 
mind,  young  man,  I'll  owe  it  to  you.  I'd  rather  be  your 
debtor  for  a  thousand  pounds,  than  cheat  you  out  of  a 
brass  farden. 


ACT  v— SCENE  2.       SOLID  SILVER.  87 

LEON. 

Thank  you,  Monsieur.  You  are  so  liberal  a  gentleman! 
[6row//.]  I  would  like  to  see  him  in  the  water  of  the  sea, 
and  callto  me  for  help.  Sacre  !  Ros-bif !  [Exit  L.  1  E. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

I  was  very  near  committing  an  extravagance,  but 
checked  myself  in  time.  Now,  for  my  letter.  [  Turns  it 
occr  and  over,  takes  off"  his  spectacles,  wipes  them  and  replaces 
them  on  his  nose  as  he  speaks.^  Who's  wasting  pen  and  ink 
on  me  ?  It's  a  delicate  hand, — looks  like  a  woman's — 
h's  and  p's  long  as  fishing  poles.  P'raps  it's  a  billet  dux 
for  John  !  No  :  there's  no  "  Junior  "  on  it.  I'll  open  it 
for  information,  anyhow.  Happy  to  oblige  ma'am,  if 
there  is  no  pecuniary  risk.  Smiles  can't  unlock  my  cash 
box,  nor  tears  either.  I've  had  'em  pour  eye- water  on 
me  by  the  bucket  full,  but  I  was  dry  as  a  duck  after  a 
shower.  Let's  see — let's  see.  [Opens  it  and  reads']: 
"  Mr.  John  Sponge  :  In  view  of  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances under  which  you  advanced  moneys  to  my  cousin, 
Captain  Gerard  Morris,  my  solicitor,  Mr.  Oldcastle,  is 
authorized  to  arrange  with  you  for  payment,  in  London, 
upon  the  surrender  by  you  of  all  securities.  Bertha  Hunt- 
ingdon." Here's  my  riser — up  I  go.  Now  to  stay  up 
long  enough  to  get  off  my  see-saw  without  damage.  I'll 
goto  London  right  away  and — [tyosses  and  meets  Mr. 
OLDCASTLE  entering  L.  1  E.] — Hallo  !  Talk  of  the  Devil, 
and 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Sir,  I  don't  know  your  friend,  and  don't  desire  to.  I 
have  had  instructions  to  pay  your  claims  against  that 
scape-gallows  Morris,  in  London.  Name  your  time  and 
place,  sir,  and  don't  detain  me  here,  sir !  [very  loftily. ~\ 

SPONGE,  SR. 
Hoity-toity  —  I'm  as  good  a  man  as  you,  sir. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

You  are  not.     You're  no  man  at  all,  by  Jove. 

SPONGE,  SR, 
I  am. 


88  SOLID  SILVER.       ACT  v— SCENE  2. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

You're  not. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

Don't  contradict  me,  sir. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

I'll  do  it  a  hundred  times.  You're  not,  you're  not, 
you're  not,  sir. 

[Enter  SPONGE,  Jr.,  R.  1  E.,  who  quietly  looks  on,  greatly 
enjoying  the  quarrel.'] 

SPONGE,  SR. 
You're  a  humbug,  sir. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

You're  a  plunderer,  sir,  of  foolish  women. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

I've  been  plundered,  sir — plundered,  by  Jove — and  all 
the  glib-tongued  lawyers  in  the  kingdom  can't  cheat  me 
of  my  rights.  I'll  name  my  time  and  place  for  settling 
this  business  ;  and,  that  disposed  of,  I'll  name  another 
time  and  place  for  settling  you,  sir.  I'll  send  my  second 
to  you. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Oh,  yes !  your  second, — of  exchange  !  I'll  pay  your 
first  ;  and,  if  you  send  the  second,  I'll  kick  your  messen- 
ger down  stairs,  you  hoary-headed  vampire. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

This  lawyer  calls  me  a  vampire  !  Bloodsucker  your- 
self, sir !  You're  an  assassin  of  honest  men,  with  your 
writs  and  executions.  You're  a  shield  between  pick- 
pockets and  the  law.  You're  a 

SPONGE,  JR.  (advancing  c.) 

Hush !  hush  !  impetuous  youths.  Stop  talking  like  a 
pair  of  fish-women  ;  and  if  you  must  fight,  put  up  your 
hands  and  go  at  it  like  men.  I'll  lay  aside  family  preju- 
dice and  see  fair.  Time  ! 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Pshaw !  We're  two  old  fools,  and  lost  our  tempers.  I 
mean  you  no  harm,  sir. 


ACT  v— SCENE  2.       SOLID   SILVER.  89 

SPONGE,    SR. 

Nor  I  you,  sir.    There's  my  hand.    [  They  shake  hands.~\ 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Gentlemen,  good  morning.  [6ro?>^/.]  An  old  rhinoce- 
ros and  his  cub  !  [Exit  OLDCASTLE. 

SPONGE,    SR. 

.John,  while  you  are  here,  and  I  am  getting  my  breath 
aft  IT  my  bout  of  words  with  that  old  pettifogger,  you'd 
better  read  this  letter.  We're  in  luck  again.  Ha  !  ha  ! 
[A'// Ax  ///x  lands.  Hands  it  to  SPONGE,  Jr.,  who  reads  it, 
tin  a  carefully  folds  it  into  halves."] 

SPONGE,    SR. 

That's  right,  Johnny  ;  you're  a  credit  to  me.  Neat 
and  business-like  —  eh,  Johnny?  Endorse  it  for  filing 
when  you  get  ink.  [SPONGE,  Jr.,  deliberately  tears  the 
paj)er  through  the  middle,  hands  one  half  to  his  father, 
(•rumples  the  other  half,  and  puts  it  into  his  own  pocket.] 
What  are  you  doing,  you  loon,  you  ? 

SPONGE,  JR. 

We're  partners,  are  we  not  ? 

SPONGE,  SR. 

Of  course  we  are, — but  John — [entreatingfy.'] 

SPONGE,  JR. 

I  am  dividing  the  assets  of  the  firm,  that's  all.  I've 
got  my  share.  Take  care  of  yours,  Governor,  and  endorse 
it  when  you  get  ink.  Good  bye,  Governor.  Don't  let  me 
detain  you.  [6rom//.] 

SPONGE,  SR. 

[  Very  earnestly.]     But  John, 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Certainly,  Governor.  You're  right.  It  would  be  dis- 
graceful to  take  her  money.  I'll  tell  Miss  Huntingdon 
we  can't  accept  her  proposition  to  pay  the  Captain's 
debts — of  course  I  will.  Don't  say  another  word. 

SPONGE,  SR.  * 

[  Very  angrily]     But  John, 

L 


90  SOLID   SILVER.       ACT  v— SCENE  3, 

SPONGE,  JR. 

Of   course   you  feel  insulted  by  it,  but  she  meant   it 
kindly,  and  you'll  excuse  her  when  you  cool  off. 

[Exit  SPONGE,  Jr.  (L.  1  E.),  followed  by  his  father. 

SPONGE,  SR. 

Down  I  go,  for  good  and  all,  by  Jove  !     [Exit  L  1  E. 


SCENE  III. —  The  same  set  as  in  First  Scene  of  Second  Act. 
BERTHA  and  OLPCASTLE  discovered. 

MR.  OLPCASTLE,   (L.) 

It  is  a  month  since  I  prepared  these  deeds  of  gift ;  and 
now  that  you  are  threatening  to  give  effect  to  them,  I 
venture,  as  your  former  guardian  and  present  legal  adviser, 
to  ask  the  motives  which  impel  you  to  this  inexplicable 
act? 

BERTHA,  (R.) 

I  suppose  a  woman  may  do  as  she  will  with  her  own. 

MR.  OLPCASTLE. 

Your  legal  right  can  not  be  disputed.  The  law  is  ass 
enough  to  presume  that  discretion  comes  to  women  to- 
gether with  lawful  age. 

BERTHA. 

I  have  known  lawyers  and  old  bachelors  still  more  pre- 
suming. 

MR.  OLPCASTLE. 

That's  as  may  be,  but  if  all  the  law's  presumptions  were 
as  irrational,  it  ought  to  be  exterminated. 

BERTHA. 

You  have  a  right  to  know  my  motives.  But  you  must 
promise  me  to  keep  my  secret.  I  am  really  dying  to 
tell  it  to  some  one. 

MR.  OLPCASTLE,  (aside.} 
Humph  !    I  thought  so  !     I  know  'em  ! 


ACT  v— -SCENE  3.        SOLID   SILVER.  91 


BERTHA. 


Now  for  in v  reasons.  First,  a  most  unlawyer-like  im- 
pulse to  do  justice  as  well  as  talk  it  :  and  next,  an  irresist- 
ible temptation  to  show  the  world  what  you  declare  has 
never  yet  been  seen,  a  sensible  woman. 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

Riddles,  riddles,  bosh  and  nonsense  !  You  are  doing 
that  whieh  may  affect  your  life-long*  happiness. 

BERTHA. 

I  know  it  well,  thank  Heaven  ! 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

I  have  no  more  to  say. 

*  BERTHA,  (aside.) 

Thank  Heaven  for  that,  also.  [Aloud.]  Give  me  my 
precious  papers. 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

[  Throws  them  on  the  table .]  I  wash  my  hands  of  all  re- 
sponsibility.  It  is  an  act  of  simple  lunacy.  What  do 
you  suppose  your  father  would  say  to  this  most  serious 
nonsense  ! 

BERTHA. 

That  I  am  about  to  pay  a  debt  which  he  owes,  equally 
with  me. 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

He  had  no  obligations.  If  he  had  a  fault,  it  was  ex- 
travagant justice. 

BERTHA. 

I  am  his  daughter,  and  will  be  just, — as  he  was.  You 
will  remain,  won't  you,  my  dear  guardian  V  There,  there, 
sit  down.  [Pushing  A////  plfqtfulfy  '<ntn  «  /-A"//-.]  I'll  hold 
the  reins  and  you  can  hold — your  dear  old  lawyer's  tongue, 
for  once. 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

Humph  ! 


92  SOLID   SILVEK.        ACT  v— SCENE  3. 

Enter  LEON,  (L.  3  E.) 

LEON. 

The  Earl  and  Countess  de  la  Lande,  and  Lady  Emily 
Peele,  desire  to  see  Miss  Huntingdon.  [Moves  sofa  down 

L.  H.] 

BERTHA. 

Show  them  up,  Leon,  please.  [  To  Mr.  OLDCASTLE.]  I 
have  summoned  them  for  witnesses  against  you,  sir. 

[Exit  LEON,  and  re-enters  ushering  the  Earl,  Countess  and 
Lady  EMILY,  L.  3  E.] 

EARL. 

Good  morning  to  you,  Bertha.  Why,  Mr.  Oldcastle, 
how  d'ye  ?  [Gives  him  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  which  Old- 
castle  takes  with  profound  respect.']  I  did  not  know  you 
were  in  this  part  of  the  world.  * 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

[  With  extreme  deference.']  I  hope  your  lordship's  health 
is  good.  [  To  the  Countess.]  Your  ladyship  is  looking  re- 
markably well,  and  Lady  Emily  also.  [Both  ladies  bow 
with  hauteur  and  seat  themselves  L.  H.] 

COUNTESS. 

We  are  well,  thank  you,  and  very  desirous  to  know 
what  this  means,  as  I  presume  from  the  fact  of  your  pres- 
ence, it  is  a  business,  and  not  a  social  assembly. 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

Certainly,  my  lady  ;  very  good,  very  good  indeed  ; 
ha!  ha! 

LADY  EMILY. 

I  hope  you  will  not  delay.     I  can't  bear  suspense. 

BERTHA. 

You  shall  all  know  in  my  good  time. 

Enter  LEON,  (L.  3  E.) 

'    LEON. 

Mrs.  Weir  and  Mr.  Paul  Weir.  {Enter  PAUL  leaning  on 
his  mother's  arm  ;  BERTHA  goes  to  meet  them ;  kisses  Mrs. 


ACT  v— SCENE  3.       SOLID   SILVER.  93 

WEIR  and  shakes  hands  with  PAUL.     They  come  forward 
- 


Leon,  give  Mr.  Weir  that  chair.  [Leon  pushes  arm- 
chair forward  as  (limited.']  Thank  you  ;  you  may  retire. 
[PAUL  bows  to  all  and  seats  himself.  Mrs.  WEIR  sits.'] 


My  dear  old  friends,  this  gentleman  has  rendered 
faithful  service  to  me.  His  care  has  doubled  my  estate, 
and  he  has  saved  my  life.  I  hope  you  honor  him. 

COUNTESS. 

We  know  it  all,  poor  child.  [  To  PAUL,  condescendingly. ,] 
Sir,  we  thank  you, — certainly — of  course — we  thank  you. 

LADY    EMILY. 

And  pray,  sir,  add  my  obligations  to  her  ladyship's. 

EARL. 

[Crosses  to  PAUL,  R.  H.,  and  shakes  him  by  the  hand.~]  I 
am  proud  to  shake  you  by  the  hand  and  thank  you,  too. 
Command  me,  sir,  at  any  time.  [Crosses  back  to  sofa,  L.  H. 

MR.  OLDCASTLE. 

[Aside. ~\  Humph  !  There's  the  cat  in  the  meal-tub  ! 
I'm  prepared  for  anything.  [To  PAUL.]  You've  done 
your  duty  like  a  man, — and — and 

BERTHA. 

And  in  the  presence  of  our  friends  I  wish  to  feebly 
show  my  thankfulness. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

You  surely  do  not  intend  to 

BERTHA. 

I  intend  to  have  my  way,  Mr.  Oldcastle.  [  Goes  to  the 
table,  writes  upon  the  papers  left  there  by  Mr.  OLDCASTLE, 
and  turns  to  PAUL,  who  rises.']  Mr.  Weir,  my  more  than 
friend,  I  beg  you  to  accept  a  most  unworthy  token  of  my 
gratitude.  [PAUL  rises,  takes  the  papers,  stares  at  them, 
and  drops  them  on  the  floor.'] 


94  SOLID  SILVER.        ACT  v— SCENE  3. 

PAUL. 

I  could  not  have  believed  this  of  you.  I  am  proud  to 
say  I  served  you  with  fidelity,  and  did  my  simple,  honest 
duty.  For  that  you  paid  me,  as  you  did  your  grooms 
and  household  servants.  If  I  helped  save  your  life,  or 
made  your  sufferings  more  brief,  all  that  you  have — nay, 
all  the  gold  that  ever  glittered  to  the  sun — could  not  add 
to  my  wealth  of  happiness  in  remembering  it  ;  and  were 
I  rich  enough  to  make  your  fortune  seem,  by  comparison, 
but  the  daily  gains  of  poverty,  I  would  beggar  myself  to 
blot  out  the  recollection  of  this  day.  [  Takes  Mrs.  WEIR 
by  the  hand.']  Mother,  let  us  go.  You  cannot  think  it 
fitting  we  should  remain.  These  people  think  they  pay 
us  when  they  give  us  gold.  [They  make  a  movement 
to  go.~\ 

LADY    EMILY. 

How  perfectly  romantic ! 

COUNTESS. 

He  is  quite  a  hero.  I  wonder  where  these  low  people 
get  such  lofty  sentiments  ! 

EARL. 

He  is  altogether  right,  and  what  he  says  has  the  ring 
of  true  manhood,  madam.  [  To  PAUL.]  Sir,  I  honor  you. 

MR.  OLDCASTLE,  (advances.) 

Humph  !  He  is  just  as  weak  as  she  is.  Weir,  I  knew 
your  father.  If  he  had  gained  an  opportunity  like  this, 
he  would  have  taken  advantage  of  it.  The  recompense 
is  large,  but  riot  excessive,  in  foro  eonscientice  ! 

MRS.    WEIR. 

How  can  you  stab  a  dead  man's  memory  ?  He  was  a 
man  of  honor,  truth,  and  education.  His  heart  was  all 
his  life  as  pure  as  hers  [pointing  to  BERTHA],  when  she  lay 
in  his  arms  for  baptism.  He  would  have  scorned  the 
bribe  you  offer  Paul.  Lean  on  my  arm,  my  son ;  we'll 
go  together  from  this  house.  [They  turn  to  go  up  the 
stage.~\ 

BERTHA,  (interposing.) 

Before  you  judge  me,  I  implore  you  to  take  these  doc- 
uments and  read  them  honestly. 


ACT  y— SCENE  3.       SOLID   SILVER.  95 

PAUL. 

I  will  not  touch  them.  It  is  enough  for  me  to  know 
you  wish  to  pay  me.  Perish  such  gifts !  and  may  the 
giver  one  day  learn 

BERTHA. 

I  know  all  now.  You  will  not  ?  Then  I  will  read  to 
you,  but  only  so  much  as  my  own  hand  has  written.  The 
rest  I  estimate  as  you  do.  "  These  gifts  are  made 

!/v^//.v]  uto  my  beloved  friend,  and,  if  he  will,  my  future 
msbaiid,  Paul  Weir."  \_Allrise  and  exclaim,  "Her  hus- 
band !  "  Mrs.  "\VKIR  exclaim x,  "  My  Paul !  "  PAUL  makes 
i, m  >•// 1>  /O//V//V/.N-  BERTHA,  and  extends  his  hands.  She  motion* 
1 1 in  fo  stop.  He  stands  amazed.^  Yes,  Lear  me,  all  of  you  ! 
I  have  long  known  his  love  for  me,  and  felt  its  blessing  on 
my  life.  I  own  my  love  to-day  with  greater  pride,  than  if 
his  hand  could  offer  me  the  coronet  of  a  duke.  Mother  ! 
[C/-o»r.v  f,t  Mrs.  "\VEIR.]  Your  hand.  [Takes  it.~\  I  claim 
your  love  and  his  protection  against  the  world.  The  test 
of  gold  was  not  for  you,  but  that  these  witnesses  of  mine 
should  see  you  as  I  know  you  are.  I  knew  you  would 
reject  my  deeds !  [PAUL  goes  to  her,  takes  her  hand,  and 
puts  his  arm  round  her  waist,  and  exclaims  "BERTHA!" 
EMILY  and  Countess  sit.'] 

Enter  KATE  and  SPONGE,  Jr.  L.  3  E.,  arm  in  arm. 

KATE,  (down  R.  H.) 

Bertha,  dear,  what's  all  this  about  ?  I  thought  Mr. 
A Veir  was  here,  not  for  a  council  of  state,  but  for  air  and 

nursing. 

MR.    OLDCASTLE. 

Give  him  time,  my  dear  ;  give  him  time.  There'll  be 
plenty  of  heir  and  nursing,  in  good  time.  Ha !  ha ! 
[Countess  and  Lady  EMILY  look  immensely  disgusted.'] 
Excuse  me,  ladies ! 

KATE. 

Oh,  bother !  I  have  been  so  pestered  by  this  foolish 
boy,  I  could  not  get  in  earlier. 

SPONGE,  JR. 

It's  no  fault  of  mine.  She  kept  me  waiting  till  I  was 
afraid  she  had  an  impediment  in  her  speech,  it  took  her 


96  SOLID   SILVER,        ACT  v— SCENE  3. 

so  long  to  say  "Yes."  But  we — well,  in  short,  we  have 
arranged  the  terms  of  a  matrimonial  copartnership,  sub- 
ject  to  Miss  Bertha's  approval  and  guaranty. 

BERTHA. 

I'll  give  you  all  my  aid  and  counsel. 

COUNTESS. 

Kate,  is  this  true  ?  I'm  positively  shocked,  amazed, 
disgusted.  What  are  people  coming  to  ? 

SPONGE,    JR. 

To  a  pair  of  weddings,  I  hope,  my  lady.  Are  they  not, 
Kate  ? 

KATE. 

I  am  sure  I  can't  help  it.     You  plagued  me  so. 

LADY    EMILY. 

It  is  not  disgusting,  mamma.  It's  very  nice,  and  so 
contagious  too.  I  think  I  could  endure  plaguing,  myself, 
if  that's  what  they  call  it.  I'll  he  bridesmaid  to  you, 
Kate ! 

EARL. 

I  did  respect  you,  sir,  for  scorning  to  he  bribed  with 
money,  but  never  hesitate  to  take  this  glorious  gift  of  a 

true  woman 

PAUL. 

I  know  I   am   not  worthy   of   her   love,    but   if   she 

thinks 

EARL. 

Who  can  be  more  worthy  a  noble  woman  than  a  true 
man  ?  Take  her,  sir.  [Gives  BERTHA'S  hand  to  PAUL.] 
The  privilege  of  caste  is  fading  away.  Titles  may  be  and 
often  are  the  glittering  tinsel  which  but  ill  conceals  base 
metal :  but  men  like  you,  who  possess  patience  in  ad- 
versity, courage  in  danger,  and  modesty  in  the  hour  of 
victory,  are  Nature's  Solid  Silver. 


RTAIN. 


v  T  0377 


